Believe
by SandraDeee
Summary: The bittersweet story of Ethan and Theresa's love is told to Theresa's son through his mother's journals.
1. Prologue

**Synopsis:** The bittersweet story of Ethan and Theresa's love is told to Theresa's son through his mother's journals.

**Author's Notes:** The usual disclaimers apply.

This story is old-school Passions. I wrote it in 2001, so many of the references to events that happened on the show are references to early Passions events. Ironically, I used the name 'Sarah' in this story long before the name was used on the show.

* * *

**Prologue: A Gift of the Extraordinary**

Houses lined the narrow street, and the neighborhood was filled with the sound of children playing in the late afternoon sunshine. Mother and son slowly walked down the worn sidewalk, hand-in-hand.

The years melted away, and she could almost imagine that she was a child again as she looked down at the cracked surface on which they walked. She remembered the games of tag that she and her best friend played along that very sidewalk. She remembered the skinned knees and the diligent attempts to avoid stepping on the cracks. She remembered walking home at night, staring up at the sky, and wishing. How she had wished!

But that was a long time ago. Much had changed.

The son glanced around him, his crystal blue eyes taking in all the sights. His mother had always avoided this place, this town. Yet now she had brought him to it. Why?

They continued their silent walk. A few minutes later, the mother stopped in front of a small, run-down brick house. Crossing the over-grown lawn infested with weeds, she made her way up the narrow walkway. The son followed.

Looking up into the eyes of her son, the mother touched his face. "This is where I come from, Avery. This was my home."

Confusion filled the son's gaze as he surveyed his surroundings more closely. Shutters hung loosely on the windows, in a desperate state of disrepair. Paint was peeling off both the door and the shutters. "This?"

She smiled weakly. "_Mi hijo_, there are many things about me that you do not know."

Avery was again reminded that his mother was secretive about much of her life. She made fleeting references to her past, but they were mostly of her childhood and never were told in great detail.

_It was as if she had lived another existence before he was born. _

"Then tell me, Mother. Let me know. Make me understand!"

He wanted to know why she had avoided this place for so long. He wanted to know what had put the sadness into her brown eyes. He wanted to know why she had such a look of longing when she thought no one was watching her. And he wanted to know who she was as a person, not just as his mother.

"Soon," she replied. "Very soon." Her hand slipped away from his face, and she walked around the side of the house.

Avery followed.

He watched the light dance in her eyes as she saw the old basketball goal. She turned to him and smiled. "My brothers used to pound each other mercilessly on this court, all for the sake of earning bragging rights for the day. They had so much pride." She looked down at the ground for a moment. "I suppose we all did."

Avery looked at the goal. The backboard was rotting. A few strings, remnants of the basket, hung from the rusted metal rim. He had a difficult time imagining anyone using it to play basketball, but looking into the eyes of his mother, he knew that she could see it as it had been, not as it was at that moment.

The mother started walking toward the backdoor of the house, but stopped at the window. It was caked with dirt. She drew a handkerchief from her purse and wiped the dirt away.

Peering through the window, she could almost picture the candles that had burned nightly on the windowsill as a beacon for her father and brother to come home. She could almost see their glow and feel the gentle heat they radiated.

Taking a deep breath, she made her way to the backdoor, placing her hand on the knob. Slowly, she began to turn it.

"Mother! You can't go in there!" Avery exclaimed. "That's breaking and entering."

She looked back at him and smiled sadly. "I think I'm the only one home," she replied quietly before walking inside.

With the exception of the layer of dust, which covered everything, the kitchen looked the same to her. Memories pelted her like rocks. So many hours had been spent in that room! Late night talks with her mother over hot cocoa and marshmallows. Teasing her brothers while the family ate meals together. Ice-cream consolation dinners with her best friend. Soap-sud battles with _him_.

Avery walked to the old refrigerator, removing a small, magnetized picture frame with a photo inside. He wiped the dust away.

Studying the picture, he recognized his mother. She stood with two young men and another woman. His mother looked so young, much as he remembered her from his childhood.

He showed it to her.

"My family," she said, taking the photo from her son. "This was long ago."

"Will you tell me about them?" Avery asked.

"Soon."

"That's what you've _been_ saying. But when will 'soon' become too late?" He looked up at the ceiling. "Why have your brought me here to this remnant of your past only to turn away before telling me about it?"

Tears filled her eyes, and she tried to push them away. "Because it is harder than I thought it would be. It is hard to face the demons."

Avery sighed. "Will you at least tell me about _him_?"

The older woman looked at her son. "What do you mean?"

"This man. This man you loved before my father." Noticing his mother's look of shock, Avery continued, "You thought I didn't notice, but I did. How could I not?"

She closed her eyes, _his_ image filling her mind. She had memorized every trace of him, every nuance. "I have kept so many things buried deeply within, _mi hijo_. It has been for your sake, as well as my own. I--" her voice faltered as he looked at her child. "I love you beyond reason. Because of that, I have tried to protect you." She took a deep breath. "I cannot protect you much longer."

He took his mother's hands. "Trust me, Mother! Trust me with whatever it is that burdens you. Please tell me!"

"I brought you here, Avery, because I want you to see me for who I really am. When I am gone…"

"Don't talk like that, Mother."

She shook her head. "You know it's an inevitability, _mi amado_. You know what the doctors said. Please, just listen to me. When I am gone, you will know everything. I have made certain of that."

"I would rather hear it from you, Mama." His voice had a pleading quality.

She smiled, hearing her son call her mama. It had been so long since he'd used the term of endearment, and her heart swelled with love. "You will. This I promise you."

* * *

"Trouble sleeping?" Sarah Markham asked her husband as she walked behind his chair and began rubbing his shoulders.

Avery sighed. "I just can't believe that she's gone. It doesn't seem possible."

"Baby, I'm sorry. I know it hurts," Sarah said soothingly, putting her arms around her husband.

"We knew it was coming. That still doesn't prepare a person…" he sighed and picked up a thick, hard-bound book. He ran his fingers along the ribbon which tied the book closed. Every night for the last two weeks, he'd sat in the same chair, holding the same book, debating the same issue: Was he ready?

Sarah smoothed Avery's hair. "She wanted you to have it. She said it would answer all of your questions."

"It's what I've wanted for so long, but now…now I'm afraid."

Sarah kissed her husband gently on the cheek. "You'll know when the time is right."

Avery nodded and listened to his wife's bare feet as she walked across the wood floor. God, he loved that woman! She was so patient, so kind, and so beautiful.

She was right. He would know when the time was right. Taking a deep breath, Avery pulled the dusky, rose colored ribbon gently.

The time had come.

As he opened the front cover of the book, Avery could see a blue envelope had been tucked away inside. Holding the envelope in his hands, he noticed two words on the outside…his mother's handwriting. _My Avery_.

He tugged at the seam of the envelope, and it came open with little effort. After removing the folded piece of paper, Avery hesitated. She told him that day at her old home that her words would change everything. What could that mean?

No matter. He had to know.

Unfolding the paper, he read his mother's letter.

_Dearest Avery,_

_How does a mother write a note like this to her child? I don't even know where to begin, so I'll just say this. My foremost wish for you is that you always know that you have been the greatest gift--the greatest blessing-- in my life. I love you with everything in my being--with all that I am._

_Just as you have been the greatest gift to me, I leave you with a legacy like none other. I leave you with a gift of the extraordinary. All I ask of you is that you believe._

_Mama_

Avery held the letter to his heart and ran his fingers over the first page of the book, seeing his mother's handwriting. This was his gift of the extraordinary; his legacy from his mother, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald Markham.

And he began to read.


	2. Chapter 1

**Synopsis:** The bittersweet story of Ethan and Theresa's love is told to Theresa's son through his mother's journals.

**Author's Notes:** The usual disclaimers apply.

This story is old-school Passions. I wrote it in 2001, so many of the references to events that happened on the show are references to early Passions events. Ironically, I used the name 'Sarah' in this story long before the name was used on the show.

* * *

**Chapter One: "Worlds Apart"**

_**October 23, 2005**_

We live with the consequences of our actions regardless of how much we change. I, better than anyone else, know that.

Yet some things never change.

_I won't give up._

I can't give up because then I would have to face a life without him, and that's not something I am willing to do.

It's been three years, four months, and six days.

_Is it even possible?_

I know everyone thinks that he's not coming back, but he is. A love like ours…it doesn't just _end_.

I still light a candle for him each night. People have been telling me that with time it does get easier, but the unknown…. dear God, the unknown is starting to get to me. I don't know how Mama did it. How did she manage to carry on with her life not knowing what happened to Papa? I just don't know if I can do it. That's why I _have_ to believe that he's coming back.

Yet I wonder what would happen if he _did_ come back. I'm not the same girl I once was. Sure, I look the same. But inside--inside I just don't _feel_ the same. I'm certainly not innocent anymore, though I wonder if I ever really was.

Oh, but I was innocent in _his_ eyes.

Not anymore. I've seen to that.

I have a hard time relating to that girl I once was, a young girl with so many dreams. The starry-eyed, laughing girl with so many exciting plans is gone. My eyes reflect a woman of the world now; jaded, hardened by life. My laughter rings hollowly in my ears. What is there to laugh about anyway? And plans….my plans have come into fruition. I've developed something of a business savvy. When the stocks from my company went public, I netted quite a sizeable fortune. Yet the creativity is gone, as is the excitement.

Sometimes I find myself wandering, searching for that girl. I want to be able to dream again, wish on stars. I want to laugh and really mean it. I want to share my dreams with _him_ again.

Sometimes in that quest for the young girl, I find myself going to those places that were so meaningful to us. I go to the wharf where we shared our first real kiss. I go to the Book Café where we spent hours laughing and drinking countless lattes.

I even find myself outside of the Crane mansion.

I never go in.

I dare not.

Each time I go on these quests, I see the extent to which things have changed. I see young lovers so absorbed in one another, so happy. That was once us, but they've taken our place.

We're in the shadows now. Our love is in the shadows where the light refuses to shine.

In a way, I feel strange writing all of this. I've become so used to the necessity of fiercely guarding what I'm feeling that this seems awkward. Yet for some reason…a reason that I cannot explain, I feel compelled to do this. Even though it's been several years since I've kept a journal, I know that this is the right thing to do.

And so this is my story. My thoughts, my feelings. Some things are hard to remember, while some things I'll never forget. Yet I suppose that's why I write this. I want to remember. I _need_ to remember.

* * *

_**Harmony, August 1999**_

"You're living in a dream world, Theresa. Ethan Crane is never going to look at you twice, let alone marry you."

"Oh, but he has looked at me twice, Whitney. It's just a matter of time." Theresa flopped back on her bed, arms placed behind her head as she gazed at her ceiling. Glow-in-the-dark stars were attached to the ceiling. It made Luis furious when he learned she had glued them there.

"Please, Theresa!" Whitney said sitting on the edge of the bed and slapping Theresa's foot. "The only reason Ethan has looked at you twice is because you keep dumping things on him. He thinks you're stalking him!"

Theresa's face fell, and she sat up suddenly. "That does present a problem. But you _know _I'm not stalking him! All of those things…they were just accidents. It's just that every time I get around him, I get so flustered. My inner nerd comes out…and I just…oh, I just ruin everything!"

"Well, if _you _don't want to be ruined, as in jail time, you'd better keep your distance."

"But how can I, Whit? You know that I took the job as Mrs. Crane's personal secretary. I'm bound to run into Ethan."

Whitney shook her head. "I still can't believe you did that, especially after your mother specifically told you not to do it."

Theresa waved her hand dismissively. "Oh, that's just Mama. She worries waaaay too much."

"And you don't worry enough," Whitney shot back.

"Come on, Whit. How could I pass up that opportunity? Mrs. Crane can help me break into the fashion industry. This opportunity is everything I've ever wanted! Everything I've ever dreamed of! All I have to do is just go to Ethan and explain…."

"Explain that you're in love with him and that's why you keep doing things to destroy his clothing, burn his skin, etc.? Why do I get the feeling that it won't fly, Theresa?"

"Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

"And what if Luis finds out?"

"Stop being the voice of gloom and doom."

"No. I'm the voice of reason, and it's a good thing because you're sorely lacking in the common sense department."

Theresa rolled her eyes. "Luis wanted me to get a job…."

"Oh, no you don't. You can't justify this one. You know how he feels about the Cranes. He blames them for the disappearance of your father."

"Luis is wrong about them, Whit. Ethan is good and decent. He didn't get that way by being surrounded by monsters. So you see, his family couldn't be evil. _So don't worry!_ Besides, Luis is _not_ going to find out!"

"Famous last words, Theresa. Famous last words."

* * *

Whitney has always been my voice of reason. Of course, that doesn't mean that I regularly listen to her. I suppose I've always had my own rhyme and reason. Maybe my life would be simpler if I had listened to Whitney, and Mama, too, for that matter.

Simpler, but not better.

I know that beyond a shadow of a doubt.

I've never been one to play it safe. That's why I've been so successful in the business world; I'm willing to take risks. Yet if the truth be told, I've taken risks in ways that I shouldn't.

But what can I say? Ethan was a risk worth taking.

Thinking back, I suppose people could look at us and say our story was the proverbial 'rich boy meets poor girl.' At one time, I would even have called it a fairytale, though not anymore. Fairytales are supposed to have happy endings. So far, a happy ending has eluded us.

Either way, we came from different worlds.

I felt this fact rather acutely when I would go to the country club. Whit taught tennis lessons there when we were in high school, and she was determined to make her way to Wimbledon.

Her father never liked her to be at the club; he still remembered the looks he would receive there when he was younger. Whitney's grandfather worked as a caddy on the golf course, and Mr. Russell was an up-and-coming tennis star, just like Whitney, until he'd been in a car accident.

Sometimes I felt as though Whitney and I were on the receiving end of those same looks. Maybe it was paranoia or my own insecurities taking hold. Or maybe it really was hard for some to see an African-American girl and a Latina crash their haven of exclusivity. Either way, I didn't belong, but I was determined to.

_Foolish girl._

This was Ethan's world. A world of privilege, endless parties, and endless responsibilities.

Ethan _always_ belonged. Everyone knew him as the eldest son of Julian Crane and Ivy Winthrop Crane. He was the heir to the Crane Empire, as well as the grandson of a former governor, and the world was his oyster.

For a man who belonged to that world, he felt alienated from it. He often told me that once we became friends.

Perhaps it was because my mother told me stories of a lonely, kind boy that I started to dream about him. Yet I knew without a shadow of a doubt that Ethan was a prince in an ivory tower, imprisoned by social expectations and familial responsibilities. And I--I was determined to rescue him.

If he could only see the real me, I reasoned, he would fall madly, deeply, in love with me. I would take away the loneliness. The difference in background wouldn't matter. The stares, the whispers, wouldn't matter.

Unfortunately, I was too busy disguising the 'real' me.

* * *

_**Harmony, October 1999**_

Theresa smoothed the short wig that framed her face. It was decidedly unflattering, as were the thick dark glasses she wore. But it was a necessity. She hated being deceitful, and she hated looking so homely, but she didn't have a choice.

Whitney had been right. Ethan was convinced that she was stalking him. He'd even gone so far as to hire Frank Lomax, a rather well-known private detective, to track down his "stalker." Why couldn't he see that it was just a series of misunderstandings?

A few weeks ago, things almost came to a head. She'd been at the mansion to see Mrs. Crane. Ethan saw her outside, grabbed her, and demanded to know why she was following him. How could she tell him that she was his mother's new personal secretary? And how could she tell him that she was Pilar's daughter? Her mother might lose her job!

So she ran, and the 'professional, 'i.e. disguised, version of Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald was born.

Theresa was sinking deeper and deeper into her lie, and she knew it. But if she told the truth now, wouldn't that just make things worse?

Theresa pulled the wig from her head and shook her long dark hair letting it fall into waves around her shoulders. Removing the glasses, she sat at Mrs. Crane's vanity and studied her reflection. "I just wish you could see the real me, Ethan."

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

"Just a minute!" she called out as she frantically tried to stuff her hair under the hideous wig and put on the unattractive glasses.

She knew she was flustered and that she needed to regain her cool. It was just so hard. The situation was getting out of hand.

"Come in," she replied.

The door swung open and Ethan walked in. Her heart did a flip-flop when she saw him. He was perfect; so sweet, so handsome. His crystal blue eyes held a twinkle as well as a hint of mischief. His smile had the ability to make her feel like the most important person in the world.

"Oh, hi Ethan." She hoped that she sounded casual. If she wanted to keep her job, she couldn't let herself get too close, lest he discover who she really was.

"Hi Theresa. I'm sorry to bother you. It looks like you're busy in here," he said pointing out the stack of correspondences that Theresa was replying to on behalf of his mother.

She smiled. "I wouldn't mind a little distraction," she replied. As soon as it came out of her mouth, part of her wished she could take it back. She was treading dangerously. But the other part of her wanted to be around him desperately. The more she came to know him, the more she realized what an extraordinary man he was.

"Good." He pulled up a chair and sat next to her. "I was hoping you could help me with something."

"I'll try," she replied.

"Well, I was wanting to take Gwen out tonight, but I just feel like we get into a rut. I mean, how many times can a person go to the theatre or to the Country Club? I want to do something special for her; something that she'll remember. Do you have any suggestions?"

Theresa felt her heart sink. She was hardly the person to be giving Ethan advice about Gwen, especially considering that she didn't believe they were well-suited for one another. But she also realized that she would do anything for Ethan. He would have to come to the realization that he and Gwen weren't suited for another on his own. In the meantime, she would do what he wanted.

"Well….let me think." She paused and rubbed her chin in contemplation. "Both of you grew up away from Harmony, didn't you?"

"For all intents and purposes," Ethan replied.

"Oh, then there are all kinds of discoveries to be made right here! For example, there is a place where we locals like to go. It's this little place called Hidden Hollow. It's one of the best kept secrets around here."

"What is it?"

Theresa sighed. "I'm not even sure what to call it. It's a little like a park, but that's not an entirely accurate description either. It's pretty neat, though, and there are always new things to find. Mr. Lee, the man who runs the place, has tons of animals there; everything from domesticated deer that will let you pet them to geese that do tricks in hopes someone will give them bread. He even has a wildcat. There are hiking trails there that are lit at night, and it's very beautiful. One of the trails comes to a point that overlooks the ocean. Speaking of the ocean, he even has caves that lead down to the beach."

Ethan smiled. "Why haven't I heard about this place before? It sounds wonderful!"

"No offense, Ethan, but most people would assume that you wouldn't be interested in such a place."

"Because I'm a Crane."

He never realized that the people of Harmony despised his family until he returned. From all he'd seen, his family had helped the town through the provision of jobs, parks, and charitable donations. Why did the name 'Crane' leave such a distaste in so many people's mouths?

"I guess people just have certain expectations from you."

He frowned. "They assume that because my last name is Crane, I must be an ogre or something."

"Anyone who knows you knows better than that," she said reassuringly.

"I just wonder if I'll ever fit in," he replied glumly as he stood.

She stood and walked to his side. "You're a special person, Ethan. Why would you want to be like everyone else?"

"I can't explain it, Theresa. I just…." His voice trailed off. "All my life, I've been 'Ethan Crane, heir apparent to the Crane Empire.' I've never just been _Ethan_. I never got to do all of those things that people who aren't in my position get to do. I've never known what it is to go bowling or spend the day at an amusement park. Just going into the local movie theatre or Pizza Hut was frowned upon."

"It looks like you have a lot of catching up to do," Theresa said with cheerfulness in her tone.

"Catching up?"

"Well, my older brother always told me that it is never a good thing to have regrets." And Luis had told her that, though at the time he'd been giving Theresa the dreaded sex talk. "So, with that said, it's time to start making some changes. Look at this as an opportunity."

"An opportunity?"

"Absolutely! Ethan, you speak as though you're an old man about to take your last breath. But look around you! The world is at your disposal…all of it. Go out there and discover those things you've been missing, starting right here in Harmony."

"Will you show me?"

"Show you?"

"Yes. You know, be my guide.

Theresa hesitated. The more she was around Ethan, the more difficult it would be to keep her emotions in check.

Sensing Theresa's hesitation, Ethan said, "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have even asked. I'm imposing."

It wasn't such a good idea.

Yet Theresa found willing to take that risk.

"Don't be silly, Ethan. I don't mind in the least."

"Are you sure? Because like I said, I don't want to impose on you."

"I'm positive. I would love to show you what Harmony has to offer."

"Great, because I really need some culture," he replied wryly.

Theresa couldn't help but laugh. Ethan was probably one of the most refined people she knew….and one of the humblest.

Ethan smiled back at Theresa. Pilar's daughter was definitely one of a kind. She wasn't classically beautiful, but she possessed an inner beauty that emanated from her. Her laughter and enthusiasm were infectious. She kept him on his toes and really made him think, but she also put him at ease.

Being around her made him feel so _alive_.

"I'm really glad I stopped by to see you, Theresa. You always know just what to say."

"Not always, Ethan," she whispered turning away from him. She still couldn't tell him who she really was. He wouldn't understand. She was a fake, pure and simple.

Life was definitely getting more complicated.

_____

The wig and glasses were just one of my disguises. Disguises come in many shapes, in many forms. The best disguises are the ones that aren't noticeable.

Ethan eventually found out the truth, but didn't expose me to Frank Lomax, who by this point, was out for blood. Ethan did it for the sake of my mother. He knew she would be fired if the truth of my little escapade came out. Of course, I wanted to believe that it was really about some deep, hidden feelings he harbored for me.

It was silly, really.

I disappointed him.

Yet I was also full of surprises, and that fascinated him.

When he promised not to reveal that I was the girl who had caused all of those ridiculous accidents, I grabbed him and kissed him on the cheek. The look on his face was one of shock, but there was something else there, as well. _Amusement._

And that was the start of it all…….

I suppose I've always gone a bit over-the-top. Even as I am looking back over the words I've written today that fact becomes all the more clear to me.

Miguel always said that I was a drama queen. How it used to infuriate me! But in so many ways, he was right. I put on a good act, so much so, that I started to believe my own lies.

I wanted things to be a certain way. Everything had to fit the mold of my dreams. Yet it came at the expense of my family--and at the expense of Ethan.

I couldn't see it at the time, but danger was staring me straight in the face, and there I was, foolishly beckoning it.


	3. Chapter 2

**Synopsis:** The bittersweet story of Ethan and Theresa's love is told to Theresa's son through his mother's journals.

**Author's Notes:** The usual disclaimers apply.

This story is old-school Passions. I wrote it in 2001, so many of the references to events that happened on the show are references to early Passions events. Ironically, I used the name 'Sarah' in this story long before the name was used on the show.

* * *

**Chapter Two: "When Worlds Collide"**

_**October 25, 2005**_

Gwen came to the shop today.

I had always wondered how it would feel to see her again, and I guess I got my answer. At one time, I had imagined myself capable of hurting her the way she hurt Ethan and me. Yet the truth of the matter is that no one deserves that….not even Gwen.

She brought her baby with her, a beautiful, two month old girl with tiny blonde curls. Her name is Sarah, and when I saw her, my heart melted. I never imagined Gwen as the motherly type. Perhaps it's because in my mind, my image of her was that of a villain. Yet there she was with her child, a child she quite obviously loves with everything in her being.

It feels strange to write about it, but it was even stranger to live it. To actually see her….

Of course, I'd heard things. For example, I knew about her impending marriage to Landon Thornton long before it actually happened. Everyone seemed to feel the need to keep me informed of the latest Gwen Hotchkiss gossip when all I wanted to do was forget.

Quite honestly, there are a _lot_ of things I would rather forget. Mistakes, mostly.

How odd that we spent the afternoon reliving those mistakes together.

* * *

Theresa froze when she saw Gwen Hotchkiss Thornton enter her boutique. Of all the things she was prepared to deal with that day, this was not one of them.

Gwen looked much as Theresa remembered, though her hair was shorter. However, the one thing that was quite obviously different was that Gwen was a mother now, and she carried her child in her arms.

Theresa felt disbelief rise within her…and regret. She and Ethan had talked about having children. Actually, she had hoped that they would have a child by now.

_How she missed him!_

Theresa was torn. Part of her wanted to tell Gwen to get lost, or better yet, to go to hell. The other part was inexplicably curious. After years of animosity, Theresa still found herself alternately intimidated and intrigued by this woman. What could she want?

Mustering as much courage as she could, Theresa asked, "Why are you here?"

Gwen looked uncomfortable, and her gaze fell to the floor. "I wanted to talk to you."

"I think we've said everything there is to say, Gwen."

"Not exactly," Gwen replied. Gently, she rubbed her baby's back, and the child cooed. "I--I have so much to tell you."

Theresa tilted her head to the side. "What could we possibly say to each other that hasn't already been said? You have your world, I have mine, and I don't want you anywhere near mine."

Gwen took a deep breath. "I'll go soon. Please, just hear me out. Theresa, I'm sorry."

Theresa's brows furrowed. "You're _what_?"

_"I'm_ _sorry_. I know it isn't adequate, but it's true. I'm sorry about what I did to you. I'm sorry that your family has had so many tragedies in the last few years. I'm sorry that I didn't let go of this vendetta when I should have. I'm sorry that I used Ethan to hurt you."

Theresa couldn't believe her ears. "Why should I believe anything that you say?"

Gwen shook her head. "You probably shouldn't. I know that if I were in your position, I would have a hard time accepting the words that I'm saying to you now. But Theresa, I am being sincere."

"What changed?" Theresa asked as she eyed Gwen suspiciously.

Gwen looked down at her daughter. "I--I finally did something right, Theresa. Sarah is the most important thing in the world to me, and she deserves to have a mother she can look up to, not someone who hurts people and never owns up to her mistakes."

Theresa looked at the child, her expression softening.

"She's beautiful, Gwen."

"Thank you. I've promised myself that she will never go through the uncertainties I went through growing up. I will be a stabilizing force in her life."

Gwen thought back to her own unconventional upbringing. Her mother was constantly embroiling her in one scheme or another. Sure, she'd finally stopped being her mother's pawn, but not before it was too late. Not before irreparable damage had already been done.

"We've both made a lot of mistakes, Gwen. Looking back, I know that I hurt you, too." Theresa shook her head, marveling at her own foolishness. "I couldn't see it at the time. I didn't understand that my actions had consequences. All I could think about was what I wanted."

"And you wanted Ethan."

"Yes."

Gwen felt a knot forming in her throat. There was still a part of her that reeled over her ill-fated relationship with Ethan Crane. She'd spent ten years of her life with him. Ten years! He was the only man she'd ever been with until she met Landon. They'd planned their future together, made plans to marry, and shared common goals. Everything had always fallen into place with them until Theresa insinuated herself into their lives.

Seeing Ethan and Theresa become such good friends had been difficult. It was even more difficult when Gwen realized that Ethan's feelings for Theresa went beyond friendship. She'd tried to overlook it so many times, but the obvious was staring her in the face.

The way Ethan looked at Theresa gave Gwen chills, especially when she realized that she'd never seen that same look of blind adoration in his eyes. Yet at one point, she would have given anything to have Ethan look at her in that way.

She tried to dismiss everything that had happened as being the result of manipulations on Theresa's part. Yet something stuck out in her mind, something that Ethan told her Chad had said. _You love who you love._

It wasn't until she met Landon that she realized what she had shared with Ethan wasn't a deep, abiding, passionate love. It was comfortable. And yes, there was nothing wrong with being comfortable in itself, but comfort couldn't hold a candle to an all-consuming love.

"As hard as it is for me to admit, Theresa, I do know this: you can't make a person love you. God knows that I've tried….and failed. Ethan did love you."

Theresa's eyes met Gwen's. She didn't want to hear of Ethan's love for her being mentioned in the past tense. "He will come back, Gwen. _He will_."

Gwen swallowed hard. "It's been…"

"Three years, four months, and eight days."

Gwen closed her eyes, a new wave of guilt washing over her. It had been so long! And then the realization finally struck her. Theresa had truly loved him. It wasn't about the money or the position. If it had been, Theresa would have moved on to her next conquest.

"My God," she whispered.

"He will be back," Theresa replied with desperate certainty.

"Have you---have you heard from him at all?"

Theresa's mind raced. "No. No, I haven't, but I will. I know I will."

Gwen was shocked. "Not even after your mother's accident?"

Theresa took a deep breath. It had been nearly three years since her mother had been the victim of a hit-and-run; nearly three years since her mother's death. It hurt that Ethan didn't contact her. After all, Pilar had been like a mother to him.

_Yet circumstances being as they were…_

"I'm sure he has his reasons," Theresa replied quietly. "When he's ready, he'll be back."

"You believe that so strongly," Gwen marveled.

"How can I not? The day I stop believing is the day I give up on him. That's not something I'm willing to do. Mama never gave up on Papa, and I'm not going to give up on Ethan."

Gwen wasn't sure what came over her, but she reached out and took Theresa's hand in her own. "I hope he comes back, Theresa. I truly do."

"You mean that, don't you?"

Gwen nodded. "Of course I do. You know, we aren't so different, you and I. We've taken different paths, perhaps, but we were friends at one time. How is it that things changed between us? When did we stop being friendly and start using each other? I just don' t know how it happened."

_____

But I could pinpoint the exact moment when things changed. Things changed when I became a threat.

_**

* * *

**_

_**Harmony, November 1999**_

Gwen Hotchkiss's eyes widened when she walked into the Crane living room and saw Ethan sitting on the sofa, laughing with a beautiful brunette. _Who is that? And how is it that they're so comfortable with one another?_

"Am I interrupting something?" Gwen asked. Her tone was light, but the words she spoke had a definite edge to them.

"Not at all. Theresa and I were just talking about the benefit ball."

"Then where is Theresa?" Gwen asked, looking around for Ivy's homely personal assistant.

Theresa laughed lightly. "I'm right here, Gwen."

Gwen slapped her hand over her mouth. "What happened to you? You're _beautiful_!" She couldn't help but notice the glance that Ethan and Theresa shot one another.

"I--um--this is how I look," Theresa replied.

"But the short hair, the glasses, the clothes."

Theresa searched for the right words. She and Ethan had agreed to keep the stalking misunderstanding to themselves. It wouldn't do to tell Gwen that her homeliness had been a mere disguise.

"I was trying to look more…._professional_."

Gwen's brows furrowed. There was something more to this, something they weren't telling her.

"Professional?" she probed. "My, you certainly did choose a unique method. What made you change your mind?"

"I like to….experiment…..with styles. You know, that way I never get bored."

Gwen's gaze fell on Ethan who seemed to be hanging on Theresa's every word. It looked like someone wouldn't be getting bored, but that someone wasn't Theresa. It had been easy to dismiss the camaraderie her boyfriend shared with Pilar's daughter when Theresa looked so pitifully homely. But now….now Theresa looked like a model

Gwen didn't like it.

"I suppose we must all have things that amuse us. Isn't that right, Ethan?" Gwen asked as she squeezed between them on the sofa. Touching his face, she murmured, "We haven't seen each other all day. Where's my hello kiss?"

Without waiting for a response from him, Gwen kissed Ethan thoroughly. It was certainly more intense than their normal greetings.

From the corner of her eye, Gwen noted that Theresa's gaze shifted. She didn't want to watch.

_Good. Just so long as she gets the message loud and clear_.

* * *

"You know, Ethan, I'm not so sure that it's a good idea for Theresa to work for your family," Gwen said over breakfast the next morning.

Ethan glanced up from his cup of coffee and newspaper, surprise etching his features. "Why would you say that?"

"Well, I've been thinking…. Theresa's brother, Luis, despises the Crane family. If he learns that she's working for Ivy, he will be livid. I would hate to see Theresa get into trouble."

Ethan rubbed his chin. Keeping Theresa's employment from Luis did present a problem. He didn't want to deceive Luis in any way, but he couldn't help but feel as though Theresa's brother was imposing unrealistic and unfair guidelines on his sister. Theresa could earn more money in one week of working with Ivy than she could in working an entire month at one of the fast-food restaurants in town. Still, he hated to think that storms might be brewing within the Lopez-Fitzgerald family, and he also hated to think that they might be adding fuel to the fire and giving Luis an even greater excuse to hate the Cranes.

"I would hate that, too."

"Perhaps you could talk to Ivy, then," Gwen suggested.

Ethan shook his head. "I don't really think that's my place, Gwen. Theresa does a wonderful job. In fact, Mother is always marveling at how she ever survived without Theresa's help. Plus, there's the fact that her family could use the extra income."

Gwen bristled. "I would never suggest that she be thrown out on the curb. Perhaps we could help her to find another position, one that would meet her brother's approval."

Ethan sighed. Helping Theresa to find a position with another family would certainly solve the Luis problem. It would even solve the possibility of a financial fallout. It all made sense. It was all perfectly logical.

_Ethan still didn't want to do it._

He didn't want to see Theresa leave and be under the employ of another family. He'd grown accustomed to her company and her enthusiasm. She always saw the world through such a fresh perspective and with such energy. To her, each day was filled with the possibility of new discoveries.

Ethan enjoyed being around that fervor. With Theresa, he could just be Ethan, an ordinary guy. She made him feel _alive._

Ethan shook his head. "It's not my place, Gwen."

She frowned.

She knew there was more to his refusal.

* * *

The more time I spent with Ethan, the more of a change I could see in him. He'd always been so concerned with upholding the Crane image, of being the perfect son and grandson. I never thought it was fair to put so much pressure on one person. Yet that was Ethan's world.

He never complained of the pressure. He never complained about being a Crane. Sure, he craved a more ordinary existence, but at the same time, he had a great deal of pride in his identity as the son of Julian Crane and Ivy Winthrop Crane.

I began to see him relax. We laughed so much each time we were together. There was always something happening . Whether it was the time I taught him how to rollerblade or he taught me the finer arts of baseball, we connected.

I don't think Ethan realized what was happening at first. He didn't stop each day and say, "I'm falling in love with Theresa" or "I'm connected to Theresa." He didn't want to see it because that would mean that he would have to let Gwen down. He cared for her a great deal.

Gwen had started to figure it out, though, as had Julian.

Julian pushed Ethan toward me, which, in a sense, pushed Ethan away from me. It still makes me furious to this day, but Julian tried to tell Ethan that he should take me to bed and still marry Gwen. "Love and sex are not mutually exclusive," Julian would say.

That was hurtful.

In Julian's eyes, I wasn't good enough to be married to Ethan. But a roll in the hay? Why the hell not?

As though _I _would be some man's mistress! Ha!

I have to give Ethan credit, though. Even with his father's prodding and proclamations that it was the "right" of a Crane male to take as many women as he wished, Ethan never tried to take advantage of me. Nor did he ever cheat on Gwen.

Ethan is a decent man, and that is one of the many reasons I love him.

Yet as the months went on, I became trapped behind a wall of lies. I tried over and over to tell Ethan that I had feelings for him, but bless his naïve heart, he thought I was talking about someone else. And then when he mentioned this phantom boyfriend of mine to Gwen, she latched onto the lie. She was determined to meet this boyfriend. How could I tell her it was Ethan that I loved? Was I just supposed to walk up to her and say, "Well, you've already met him. I'm in love with your boyfriend"? How could I?

Besides, Gwen scared me. In some ways, it was as though she were two different people. One side, the side of her that professed to be my friend, could be very kind and even fun to be around. Yet that other side of her, her territorial side, was quite frightening. What was even more frightening was how she could vacillate from one extreme to the other in just a matter of a few seconds.

I wasn't exactly _after _Ethan. It was never about manipulating him or trying to make Gwen look bad and myself look better. I truly believed it was a matter of fate.

There. I said it. The "F" word. It seems so ridiculous to me now. I justified everything under the umbrella of fate.

When Whitney ran into one of her tennis buddies and convinced him to pretend to be my boyfriend, it was _fate_.

When I modeled Gwen's engagement ring for Ethan, and it became stuck on my finger, it was _fate._

When Whitney and I were snowed in at the Crane Cabin with Chad and Ethan, it was _fate_.

When Ethan and I were named best couple at the bridal show, it was _fate_ just trying to send us a message.

When I found the old photograph of Ethan and me as children, I knew that, too, was _fate_.

_Fate_.

I hate the word now, but at the time….at the time I believed so fiercely that fate was _the_ force that controlled our lives and that fate was on our side.

I believed that fate would bring Ethan and me together.

I suppose one could argue that it did….with a little help from Julian Crane.

_**

* * *

**_

_**Crane Cabin, May 2000**_

Theresa closed the door to the taxi and took out the money that Julian Crane had given her to pay for the cab. "Thank you," she said softly before heading toward the front door of the Crane Cabin.

She'd been there twice before. Once, right before a terrible snowstorm, Julian Crane had sent her there to have Ethan sign some contracts that, according to him, just couldn't wait. Then there had been the ill-fated school skiing trip and the avalanche, which led to Whitney and her staying there with Ethan and Chad.

She had fond memories of both trips.

Yet as she stood before the door this time, she felt nervous. Mr. Crane had insisted that she take documents to Ethan, that it simply couldn't wait. Theresa couldn't help but wonder about that. She'd noticed a gleam in Julian Crane's eyes that she didn't like.

And then there had been Ethan himself.

He was avoiding her. She was certain of it.

Theresa had her theories. The biggest part of her wanted to believe that Ethan was scared. He felt the connection between them, and it frightened him. After all, he had always been brought up to be "the" Crane heir. He had specific obligations, not only to his family, but to Gwen as well.

There was no doubt in Theresa's mind that Ethan loved Gwen. No doubt at all. Yet she didn't believe that Ethan loved Gwen the way a husband should love a wife.

Was Ethan finally realizing how it could be and was that what frightened him?

Then there was the other theory that played through her mind. Ethan distanced himself because he didn't care for her. He didn't want to be around her. However, she quickly dismissed it.

Finally garnering her courage, Theresa knocked on the door and waited.

No one answered.

She sighed before knocking again, this time more loudly.

A moment later, she heard a voice call out, "I'm coming!"

When the door swung open, Theresa was startled. There stood Ethan, with his hair wet, water trickling down his chest, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. Her eyes quickly surveyed his broad shoulders, his muscular arms, and his narrow waist before she forced herself to look away.

She felt a blush creep onto her features.

Ethan's heart pounded when he saw her. She looked so beautiful standing there, wearing her faded blue jeans and a sleeveless top. "Theresa, I wasn't expecting you."

"Didn't your father call to let you know I was coming?" Theresa asked, her heart sinking.

"If he did, he couldn't get through. The battery on my cell phone is dead, and the phone company is still trying to repair the damage to the phone lines caused by the avalanche."

"Oh," she replied.

"So Father sent you, did he?" Ethan asked.

"Yes. He said he had some documents that he needed you to sign."

"Why am I not surprised?" Ethan asked wryly. He looked at Theresa and could see the uncertainty in her brown eyes. He immediately wanted to put her at ease.

"I'm sorry. I've been so rude. Won't you come in?"

"Thank you," Theresa said as she began to cross the threshold.

Unfortunately, her foot caught on the step up, and she lurched forward.

Quickly, Ethan caught her, steadying her in his arms.

Theresa looked up at him, their faces so close. She froze.

For a moment, neither of them said anything; they just stared at one another.

"Are--are you alright?" he finally asked.

"Yes, thank you. I--I don't know why I get so clumsy," she said moving away from him. But she did know. Being around him caused her equilibrium to go haywire. It always had.

He smiled. "We all have our moments."

"I suppose so," she replied.

"If you'll excuse me for a minute, I'm just going to put some clothes on."

She nodded. "Of course."

Watching him walk across the living room and down the hallway, Theresa sighed. Sitting on the couch she rubbed her eyes. "What am I doing here?"

He'd been acting strangely for the last few weeks. She noticed it quite acutely when they were in Bermuda checking on honeymoon suites. She sensed that same reticence in him now.

Looking around the living room, she realized that she had so many happy memories of that place. She remembered drinking hot cocoa next to the fireplace when they were caught in the blizzard and how the electricity went out. They'd slept peacefully on the floor near the fire until Gwen showed up, ready to draw blood.

She also remembered being serenaded by Ethan as he performed an adorable Elvis impersonation. Theresa was certain that if the King were still alive today, Ethan would be able to give him a run for his money. Then there was the dinner that Ethan and Chad served as they pretended to be Italian waiters.

Yet what stood out most in her mind was singing with Ethan. Their duet filled her heart with such longing. She was certain he would kiss her. He probably would have if not for Whitney's intervention.

Theresa stood and walked to the mantle of the fireplace. Trinkets and photographs adorned the mantle-top. One photograph, in particular, captured her attention. She removed it from the mantle, angling to get a better look. It was a much younger Ethan. Theresa estimated him to be perhaps twelve years old.

She smiled. He was so cute with his impish grin.

When she heard footsteps behind her, she turned around and quickly replaced the framed picture.

"What were you looking at?" Ethan asked approaching her.

"An old picture of you," Theresa said pointing it out.

Ethan sheepishly ran his fingers through his wet hair and groaned. "I always hated that picture!"

Theresa crossed her arms. "But why? Ethan, you were such a cute little boy!"

"I look goofy," he replied.

Theresa gasped in mock horror. "Could it be? Is it possible? Is Ethan Crane actually capable of _vanity_?"

"Well just look at it. Look at those arms. They're toothpicks. And that ridiculous grin I have on my face…"

"I wouldn't exactly call the grin ridiculous," she said. "Impish comes to mind, however. What were you thinking when that photo was made?"

"I think I was trying to figure out how to impress the photographer's assistant. She was beautiful with dark hair and eyes. I guess I've always liked dark hair and brown eyes."

Ethan felt his cheeks grow hot just as soon as the words came from his mind. He saw the twinkle in her eyes, and realized that she knew he was attracted to her. Very attracted to her.

"Um, did you say Father sent some papers?"

Theresa nodded. "Yes. They're in my satchel," she replied as she walked to the sofa where she'd left her bag. Removing a large manila envelope, she passed it to him.

Ethan unsealed the envelope and pulled out a file folder. Opening it, he discovered a scrawled note from his father inside.

_Enjoy your day with the lovely Theresa, Son._

Ethan quickly closed it.

Seeing Ethan's reaction, Theresa became concerned. "Is everything okay? Is there anything I can help you with?"

Ethan looked up at her, his blue eyes meeting her brown ones. The concern in her voice was evident, and he found it very….sweet.

He shook his head. "No. This is--this is something I'm going to have to speak to my father about on my own."

"Okay."

"Is your cab still waiting outside?" Ethan asked.

Theresa drew in a breath. It was becoming painfully obvious that Ethan didn't want to be anywhere near her. "No. Mr. Crane seemed to think that I would need to stay for awhile, so I sent the cabby on."

"He thought of everything," Ethan muttered.

Theresa had had enough. "You're my friend, aren't you, Ethan?" she asked.

Ethan shot her a look of confusion. "Of course I am!"

"Then why are you putting up this wall between us? Have I done something to upset you?"

Ethan felt like such a jerk as he looked at the pained look on her face. She had no idea. No idea at all. Keeping distance between them was the only way he would be able to keep his commitments and his sanity. She made him want so much more than he should want. So much more.

"No. It's nothing you've done. You've been a great friend to me."

"Then what is it, Ethan? You were putting up this wall when we first arrived in Bermuda and you're doing it again. I don't like this distance."

"I don't, either," he said with a sigh. God help him, but he didn't want to remain separated from her. He wanted to spend time with her, to laugh with her. "Let's try to make amends for that. Would you like to stay for lunch?"

"Lunch sounds wonderful," Theresa replied with a smile.

* * *

Theresa lay on her stomach, stretched out on the picnic blanket they'd set up in the meadow near the cabin. Propping her chin on her hands, she looked at Ethan who lay next to her on his back. "I'll just bet you had everyone fooled when you were a little boy. They all thought you were an angel, didn't they? But you…you had a mischievous streak. Am I right?"

Ethan groaned. "How did you know?"

Theresa laughed lightly. "I just know these things. I'm _that_ good!"

Ethan chuckled as he turned on his side. "You've been talking to Pilar again, haven't you?"

"Mama's told me a few stories," Theresa admitted.

"I'll just bet."

"What was the most mischievous thing you've done?" she asked.

Ethan rubbed his chin. "Let's see… there was the time I opened all the boxes of gourmet chocolate that my parents intended as Christmas presents to business associates and ate a piece from each. Oh, or the time I used Vaseline to affix toy soldiers to the outside of the mansion. They were marching in a perfect formation."

Theresa laughed, trying to imagine the man before her as a child, participating in pranks.

"Oh, and there was the time that I reached out and tickled my dear friend Theresa senseless."

"Huh?" Theresa asked.

Then she realized what he meant. As his hands reached around her rib cage, she let out hysterical laughter. She was terribly ticklish, and Ethan knew it.

Rolling over, she practically leapt to her feet. "You can't catch me, Ethan!" she challenged with a smile before she took off running through the field and toward a grove of trees.

"Oh yeah?" Ethan called back as he quickly came to his feet.

Theresa was fast, but so was he. As she felt him closing in on her, she let out a little squeal.

She ducked behind a tree, keeping it between them. Each time he moved, she would compensate by moving also. After a few minutes, they both stood there laughing.

"You might as well give up, Theresa. You're not going to escape," he taunted.

"Forget it, Crane! A Lopez-Fitzgerald _never_ gives up!"

She sprinted off with all her might, but she could feel him closing in on her once again. Suddenly, she felt an arm reach around her waist and pick her up. Ethan gently tackled her to the ground.

The soft, tall grass cushioned them as they lay, laughing and breathing hard.

She poked him in the chest. "One day, I am going to run circles around you!"

"Just keep telling yourself that," he teased.

She crossed her arms in defiance, attempting to make a pouty face. Yet the corners of her lips were slightly upturned.

Ethan noticed this right away and touched one corner of her mouth. "Ah! You can't even pout!"

"Yes I can!" she protested stubbornly, trying to harden the line of her lips.

"Bears eating peanut butter…elephants wearing pink tutus…dogs playing poker…"

Theresa covered her ears with her hands still trying to maintain her pout. "I'm not listening to you, Ethan Crane! You are not going to make me laugh!"

"Oh no you don't!" Ethan exclaimed as he gently took her hands and pinned them to the ground above her head.

He looked down at her face, so close to his own. She looked so beautiful, so innocent, and so kissable. Slowly, he leaned down, brushing his lips against hers softly. Feeling him release her arms, she wound them around his neck, drawing him closer and his kiss deeper. Ethan tasted her, teased her. His tongue sparred with hers, leaving both of them breathless, wanting more.

_Was it merely a moment?_

_Was it an eternity? _

Ethan wasn't sure. All he knew was that a spark passed between them, a spark that was in danger of lighting a deadly fire.

When their kiss finally ended, Ethan lay his head next to hers on the ground. Gently touching her face, he whispered, "You were asking me earlier what was wrong. _This_ was what was wrong. I've been wanting to do that for so long. You captivate me, Theresa.

"You make me feel alive, able to see all the endless possibilities out there. You touch my soul, Resa. I've been fighting this for so long, but I don't want to fight it anymore. I love you, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald_. I love you_."

There. He'd said it.

It felt good to no longer hold back. He just hoped that he hadn't frightened his best friend off.

Theresa felt tears sting her eyes. She'd wanted him to admit his feelings for her for so long, to admit that there was something between them. But to know that he felt the same for her as she did for him….

"I love you, too, Ethan. I have…_for so long_."

She played with his light brown hair and felt such contentment. Ethan closed his eyes and Theresa traced the contours of his face. He was so handsome, so kind, and so wonderful--and he found _her_ captivating! He loved _her_!

Her finger moved along the arch of his eyebrows, the length of his nose, and along the subtle curve of his lips before resting on his chin.

Raising her head, she looked at him. Ethan was very playful, but he wasn't toying with her. She knew that with all her heart.

Impulsively, she planted a kiss on his lips and felt herself being pulled into his arms. Her heart pounded fiercely as he held her tightly against himself.

Ethan wanted to put his hands all over her, but knew that he must not. A line had to be drawn between them. If it wasn't, he knew he could very easily lose himself in her.

Theresa---his Resa---despite her innocence, or perhaps because of it, awakened sensations in him that he'd never felt before.

In a matter of just a few minutes, everything had changed between them. Life had become more complicated, but Ethan reveled in knowing that the most amazing woman in world loved him back. She loved _him_!

Holding her close, he ran his fingers up and down her bare arms lightly. "The road ahead of us isn't going to be easy, Resa."

"Anything worth having is worth fighting for, Ethan. Our families are going to have a terrible time of this."

"And Gwen--" Ethan supplied.

He swallowed hard. He loved Gwen. He had for years. He just wasn't _in_ love with her.

"And Gwen," Theresa repeated softly.

"I'll never leave your side, Theresa. _Never._ Whatever happens, we'll face it together."

* * *

Julian Crane came to rue the day he sent me to the cabin to see Ethan. It set a chain of events into motion that none of us could have ever predicted. It was a chain of events that led to the end of my family and to my own downfall.

Ethan told me over and over that he would love me always and protect me always. Yet how could he protect me from myself?


	4. Chapter 3

**Author's Note:** I originally wrote this story in 2001 and am now archiving it here. It's classic E/T, so when you imagine Ethan, imagine Travis Schuldt in the role.

Obviously, I do not own the characters. I am merely playing the role of puppeteer.

* * *

**Chapter Three: "Enough"**

_**November 2, 2005**_

_No se puede luchar contra el destino. _One cannot fight against destiny.

I used to say it quite often. _Funny_. I hadn't thought of it in a long time, but looking over the words that I've been writing, I couldn't help but think of it.

Why am I doing this? Why am I reliving these memories? What good does it do?

No, I can't second-guess myself. I can't. I have to believe.

It gets harder and harder.

_No se puede luchar contra el destino. _

It used to mean so much more to me when I thought my destiny was Ethan. We had the perfect life planned: a home, a family, flourishing careers, time shared with friends, and each other. It was always each other.

It never occurred to me that destiny didn't intend what we intended.

_**Harmony, June 2000**_

_Music_. It was the first thing that Theresa heard when she woke up that morning. The faint, almost fleeting, sound of music wafted into her bedroom.

Lazily, she stretched in her bed. The sun was beginning to shine through her window, and she couldn't help but smile.

Hastily, she pulled a robe over her pajamas and pulled her hair back into a ponytail. Following the sound of the music, she found herself in the kitchen where her mother was beginning to prepare breakfast.

"Want some help?" Theresa asked as she stifled a yawn.

"Good morning, _mi hija_," Pilar said distractedly. "No, I can handle everything."

Theresa's ears focused on the sound coming from the small radio on the kitchen counter. "Tango," she commented.

Pilar nodded her head slightly. "It was on one of those public radio stations," she said in way of explanation.

Theresa bit her bottom lip. She knew her mother listened to tango music whenever she was missing Papa. It reminded her of the better times.

"Mama, are you okay?"

Pilar sighed. "Fine, Theresita. I'm just tired."

_Tired._ Theresa hated that her mother worked so much and rarely had any time for relaxation.

"One day, you won't have to work anymore, Mama. You'll be able to go anywhere you please, and you won't have to answer to anyone!"

"There's nothing wrong with honest work, Theresa," Pilar said as she pulled eggs from the refrigerator. "Mrs. Crane has been very good to me."

"I know, Mama, but I hate to see you so worn out. You deserve to be pampered! When Ethan and I are married, I'm going to make sure that you get what you deserve."

Pilar cast a beleaguered glance in Theresa's direction. "It seems to me that you're counting on something that will never be."

Theresa frowned. "It will happen, Mama. _No se puede luchar contra el destino_. Ethan is my destiny! It's fate, Mama. _Fate_. He loves me, and I love him. Nothing can change that."

Fear seized Pilar. _Her Theresa, her child, at the mercy of the merciless…_

Theresa had no idea of what she and Ethan would be fighting against. No idea at all! Even love could not withstand the fury of the Cranes. She, better than anyone else, knew that. It would be better if they ended it before someone was hurt or before irreparable damage was done.

"No, Theresa. End it now! End it before something terrible happens!" Pilar warned.

"Mama, nothing terrible is going to happen. Ethan's family loves him. They want him to be happy, and I make him happy," Theresa reasoned.

"There are things you don't know, Theresa. Terrible things…."

"Terrible things? What are you talking about, Mama?"

Pilar shook her head. "I've said too much. I--"

Theresa took her mother's hand. "Mama, it's going to be alright. I promise you! Ethan will not let anything bad happen to me. He loves me, Mama."

"I know he does_, mi hija_." She glanced at the picture of Martin on the refrigerator. "But sometimes love is not enough."

* * *

Sitting under the shade of the tree, Theresa held her sketching pad on her knees. Inspiration would not come. She couldn't help but think of her mother's words.

"I shouldn't let it get to me like this," she whispered. Looking up at the blue sky, she breathed a silent prayer.

"Am I interrupting?" Ethan asked.

She couldn't help but smile. He elicited that response from her without even trying. "Of course not!"

The wind whipped. As the wind blew through his hair, Theresa was struck by how handsome Ethan was. His hair was subtly kissed by gold, evidence of the summer sun; his eyes shone so brightly; and his smile held her captive— he was intoxicating to her.

"I thought I might find you out here."

Jumping up, she threw her arms around him neck. Showering him with kisses, she clung to him.

"Well, if I would have known I would get this kind of greeting, I would leave and come back more often," he joked.

"Don't ever leave, Ethan," Theresa said, tears welling up in her eyes.

"What's going on, Theresa?" he asked, concern filling his voice.

"Nothing. It's just that-," she hesitated, "you're the answer to my prayers."

His heart began to pound. He felt like the luckiest man alive. This woman, this amazing woman, loved _him_. Gently, he brushed his lips against her own. "I love you, Theresa. So much. I'll never go anywhere without you by my side."

"I love you, too, Ethan. So much that it scares me sometimes."

He took her hand and led her back to her place in the shade. He sat with his back against the tree, and she sat in front of him, leaning back in his strong arms.

"What's going on?" Ethan whispered into her ear.

"I--I was talking to Mama this morning. Ethan, she frightened me."

"I'm sure she didn't mean to, Theresa. What was she saying?"

"No, she _did_ mean to. She kept saying that terrible things would happen if we continued to see each other."

"Resa, nothing is going to happen to us. The future is bright, and it's in _our_ hands. Not Pilar's, not my father's or my grandfather's. It's in _our_ hands." Gently, he intertwined his fingers with the fingers from one of her small hands.

"There are so many people against us, Ethan. So many."

"Theresa, I made a promise to you, and it's one that I intend to keep. I will love you for the rest of my life, no matter what. We _will_ be together."

"How can you be so sure?"

He traced light kisses down the side of her neck. "Because the way I feel for you is so strong, even death could not part us."

* * *

Despite my mother's fears and my own, Ethan convinced me that nothing could separate us. My heart was swelling with love. I wanted to shout out to the whole world of our love. I wanted everyone to know!

As soon as Ethan realized his feelings for me, he broke off his engagement to Gwen. It was hard for her. They'd been together for so long, she was in a state of utter disbelief.

Ethan and Gwen had been the golden couple of their social set. Everyone talked of what a great merger their marriage would be. It would bring the Crane and Hotchkiss families together in a way that no other business arrangement could rival.

And then---Ethan and Gwen were no more.

Gwen put on a brave front, a public face, I called it. She held her head high around her friends, offering felicitous words about me to anyone who inquired.

I knew better.

Ethan might not have known differently, but I did. She hated me, and this was just the calm before the storm.

The Cranes, too, had a difficult time with the news. They were livid at first. Alistair blamed Julian for pushing Ethan toward me. Then they had a sudden change of heart, welcoming me among them.

It was unnerving.

People talked about Ethan and me quite a bit. Never to our faces, but it was always a good clue that people were talking about us when conversations stopped whenever we came near.

I wanted so badly to fit into Ethan's world. I was desperate for his friends to accept me. Looking back, it was partly selfishly motivated. What person doesn't like approval? Yet I was scared; scared that they would never accept our relationship and that Ethan would be ruined because of me.

* * *

_**Harmony, August 2000**_

"Everything is so beautiful," Theresa whispered as she and Ethan descended the stairs leading to the ballroom at the country club. "So beautiful."

Their fingers intertwined, Ethan lifted their hands and kissed hers gently. "It's beautiful because _you're_ here."

She smiled, and he led her to the dance floor.

Theresa loved to be in his arms. The touch of his hand on her small of her back as they danced, the electricity that passed through her whenever he was near, the way their eyes met and each knew what the other was thinking. It was simply _perfect_.

Theresa rested her head against his chest as they danced slowly. Their bodies were a perfect fit, made for each other. She could feel the steady beat of his heart, so in sync with her own.

Were there other people in the room? She wasn't sure, but did it even matter? All she knew was that she had found where she wanted to be for the rest of her life.

"I love you. With all my heart, I love you. I always have, and I always will," she whispered.

Ethan held Theresa more tightly. He was so proud of her, so proud to be with her. She was, without question, the most beautiful, the most kind, and the most exciting woman he'd ever know. She was creative, industrious, and she had a magnetic quality about her.

"Ethan!" a voice rang out. "How wonderful to see you! I'd wondered if you would show tonight."

Ethan and Theresa turned to look at Rebecca Hotchkiss.

Theresa had only met Gwen's mother a few times, but Mrs. Hotchkiss made her uneasy. She just seemed so sly, as though she was always in the midst of one scheme or another. It made Theresa feel somewhat guilty to even be thinking such things about a woman she hardly knew, but she couldn't help herself. Her instincts told her not to trust Rebecca Hotchkiss.

"Rebecca," Ethan greeted.

"Mrs. Hotchkiss," Theresa said quietly.

Rebecca glared at Theresa, her blue eyes coolly surveying the woman in Ethan's arms. "My, my, you're looking lovely tonight, Theresa. That dress you're wearing is exquisite!"

"Thank you, Mrs. Hotchkiss."

"Yes, well, it's much lovelier, in fact, than the drab clothes your mother is forced to wear at work. You know, I keep telling Pee-lar every time I go to the Crane Mansion that pea green washes her out, but she just doesn't listen," Rebecca prattled.

"Rebecca, that's enough!" Ethan snapped.

Rebecca looked at him with wide-eyed innocence. "What? What did I say?"

"It's all right, Ethan," Theresa said soothingly.

"Yes, Ethan. Theresa knows I didn't mean anything by it. Isn't that right, Theresa?"

Theresa met Rebecca's gaze but said nothing.

Rebecca continued. "Well, I just got back from Paris. It's so lovely this time of year, though I much prefer Paris in the spring."

"Oh, I've never been to Paris," Theresa said excitedly. "How wonderful it must have been!"

"Yes. Yes, it was." Rebecca turned to Ethan. "You took _Gwen_ to Paris for the first time during springtime, as I recall. Of course, I'm sure _you _remember quite well. That was the first time that you and she consummated your relationship. Ah…yes. Paris, the city of eternal love."

Theresa swallowed hard. "Excuse me," she said quietly.

"Theresa, wait," Ethan said.

"I--I just need to freshen up. That's all," Theresa said with a weak smile. With that, she headed toward the powder room, hoping to compose herself.

Rebecca watched Theresa walk away. "Oh dear, whatever did I say?"

Ethan glared at Rebecca, took her arm, and pulled her aside. "Put your claws back in, Rebecca," he whispered harshly.

Rebecca looked down at her perfectly manicured nails. "Claws, Ethan?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about. You purposely came over to us to make Theresa feel uncomfortable. The fact of the matter is that she is ten times better than you will ever be. You know it, and you can't stand it."

"What I can't stand, Ethan, is how you continue to make a public spectacle of yourself. It's bad enough to shame my daughter by breaking off your engagement to her, but to leave Gwen for the housekeeper's daughter? Why, if it weren't so disgusting, it would almost be comical!"

"I'm warning you right, now, Rebecca, that you had better stay away from Theresa. She is the woman I love, the woman I will always love! In fact, I intend to make her my wife!"

Rebecca's eyes widened. She almost choked on the words. "Your wife?"

"That's right. Theresa will be a Crane, and she'll have everything that goes along with it. So if I were you, I would watch what I say."

With that, Ethan walked away from her.

Rebecca rubbed her chin. Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald a Crane? No. It wouldn't happen. She would see to that.

* * *

Theresa walked into the spacious powder room. Against one wall was a row of vanities, complete with ornate mirrors and plush chairs. Against the other side of the room were discreetly placed bathroom stalls.

Theresa sat at one of the vanities and tried to collect her thoughts. She reached for a tissue and dabbed her eyes. She'd promised herself that she wouldn't let Gwen's mother get to her, but Rebecca Hotchkiss knew exactly what to say.

Of course Theresa knew that Ethan and Gwen had been together, but it will still so hard to hear of it. She loved him with everything in her being, but to know that he'd shared the most intimate of experiences with another woman made her heart ache a bit.

The tears began to flow, and she heard someone pull at the door. It wouldn't do to have anyone see her cry, so she scurried into one of the bathroom stalls.

"Men are so gullible," Theresa heard said a voice say.

"I agree, Heather," a second voice commented. "Did you see the way Elizabeth Markham was falling over Garrett Castor? Shay didn't even notice it."

"I heard from Misty Saylors that Elizabeth and Garrett have been sleeping together for months now."

"No!"

"Yes," Heather replied.

"But aren't Garrett Castor and Shay Markham best friends?"

Heather lowered her voice conspiratively. "Apparently they share everything," she giggled.

Theresa felt nauseated at hearing the ladies gossip. Didn't they have better things to do?

"Oh, and what about Ethan Crane? What is _he_ thinking?"

Heather groaned. "You know the Crane men, Joyce. They might do well in the business world, but in their personal lives, they aren't exactly known for thinking with their heads, if you know what I mean."

Joyce laughed lightly. "I still can't believe that Ethan dumped Gwenie for that little Latin tart. I mean, to be cast aside for the housekeeper's daughter? How embarrassing! He must think she's something else in bed."

Theresa bit her lip. She couldn't believe they were talking about Ethan and her that way!

Heather replied, "She has to be pregnant. Otherwise, there is no way that Ethan Crane would have anything to do with her."

"Well, when she turned to the side, I did think that I saw a hint of a belly," Joyce commented.

"I don't think she's showing yet. She's awfully tiny. Oh, but I heard something even juicier. I heard that old man Alistair called Ethan into his office for a meeting."

"Get out of here! Who told you that?" Joyce asked.

"Well, Regina Maddox's husband, Wade, plays golf with Julian Crane, and apparently Julian let it slip. Naturally, when Regina heard, she told me all about it."

Joyce rolled her eyes. "Julian has never been good at keeping secrets. No wonder Alistair passed him over as heir. Oh, but I would have loved to be a fly on the wall for that meeting! What do you think it was about?"

"My guess is that Alistair told Ethan he would be disinherited if he continued his relationship with the Lopez-Fitzgerald tart."

Theresa closed her burning eyes. Was she really costing Ethan his family?

"But Ethan is still with her," Joyce noted.

"Don't remind me. She is going to completely ruin Ethan's future. I know for a fact that Ethan has political aspirations. Tell me, though. Would you vote for a man who dumped Gwen Hotchkiss for the family housekeeper's trashy daughter? Ethan will _never_ make it if he keeps her. Her family just doesn't have the right connections."

"He won't keep her, Heather. Ethan might seem like a decent, upstanding man, but he's still just that---a man. Just as soon as the next flavor of the month comes along, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald will be out of his life."

Theresa shook her head. It wasn't like that with her and Ethan. She wasn't a flavor of the month! They loved each other! But would she really cost Ethan his future?

"Won't that be delicious? Perhaps that will teach a lesson to all the other social climbers."

"Ready to go back to the party?"

"Yes. I think that while Elizabeth is occupied with Garrett, I'm going to dance with Shay."

"You are terrible, Joyce! Just terrible!" Heather laughed.

"Shay Markham is a beautiful man. Even if his wife doesn't appreciate that fact, I most certainly do."

Hearing the women leave, Theresa emerged from the stall. "I don't belong here," she whispered. She needed to get out of there desperately.

* * *

Seeing Theresa's ashen expression when she emerged from the powder room, Ethan grew increasingly worried.

"Resa, are you okay?" he asked as he clasped her hands in his own.

"I don't belong here, Ethan. I need to go!"

Ethan could see the fear in her eyes, the hurt. He would have given anything to take those feelings away from her. "Come outside to the garden with me. We'll talk."

"Ethan, I--"

"Please, Theresa," he said.

She nodded, and he led her outside.

It was a beautiful night as they walked down the lit garden path. The fragrant scent of roses filled the air, as well as the gentle chirping of crickets. Leading her away from the path, Ethan and Theresa settled on a stone bench. The night sky was filled with stars, thousands of them, looking down upon them.

In the moonlight, Ethan could see Theresa's face. She looked haunted.

"Theresa, about what Rebecca Hotchkiss said, she was only trying to make you feel uncomfortable. She had been counting on this marriage and when it didn't happen…"

Theresa shook her head. "Ethan, this isn't just about Rebecca Hotchkiss. Being here tonight reminded me of the fact that I don't belong in your world."

"Theresa," he said gently as he touched her face, "you _are_ my world. You're the first thing I think of when I awaken each morning, and the last thing I think about before I go to sleep."

"Ethan, I can't be your world. You have family, friends, and obligations to them."

"Where is this coming from?" Ethan asked as he pulled her closely to him.

Theresa looked up at the sky. "I heard some women talking when I was in the powder room. They were talking about us, and how I am going to ruin everything you've worked toward if you stay with me."

He shook his head. "You can't listen to the gossip mongers. Their lives are miserable so they feel the need to speak ill of others."

"But Ethan, you deserve to be with someone who can make you proud. I—I just make people laugh at you. They think I've tricked you or something."

"Oh Theresa, don't you know how proud I am to be with you? You are the most amazing woman I've ever known. I consider it an honor that you're here with me tonight."

She wanted to believe him, but those things the women were saying…. She never wanted to cause any embarrassment for him. _Never_.

"Ethan, did your grandfather call you in to see him?" Theresa asked.

"Some time ago, but what does this have to do with anything?"

"I don't want to cause a rift between you and your family, Ethan. I know how important they are and how important being a Crane is to you. I couldn't take that away from you!"

Ethan gently wiped the tears from her eyes. "Resa, I know our lives would be much simpler if circumstances were different, but weren't you the one who told me that anything worth having is worth working for?"

She nodded.

"I love you so much, and I'm not going to let you go. Father and Grandfather understand that. I won't lie and say that they're thrilled, but they do understand." She squeezed her hand. "And someday, I want you to be part of my family. So you see, I'm not going to give up on you, and I'm not going to give up on us."

She kissed him gently, and then they sat quietly for a few minutes, looking at the night sky. "Sometimes I think they stars shine for us," she whispered. As if on cue, a streak of light darted across the sky.

Ethan turned to Theresa. "Did you see it?" he asked.

She had her eyes closed and was almost inaudibly whispering words.

Finally, she turned and looked at him. "I did."

"What were you doing?" he asked.

"I made a wish," she replied.

"And what did you wish for?" he asked.

_That we would always find our way back to each other, no matter what_, she thought. "I can't tell you. Then it won't come true."

"Who made up that rule?" he asked with a chuckle.

"The same person who made up the rule about birthday wishes, so it has to be true," she replied with a light laugh.

"Are you ready to go back inside?" he asked.

"With you by my side, I can face anything, Ethan."

* * *

A storm was still brewing, but I felt invincible when Ethan held me in his arms. I walked back inside, held my head high, and focused on the man I loved. I wanted so much to make him proud of me.

When I went home that night, I watched Ivy Crane leave the house. Inside, Mama was pouring over papers from an attaché case. She didn't hear me come in, but when I looked over her shoulder and saw Ethan's name on the papers, I asked her about them.

It frightened her.

She told me I must never speak of what I saw. So many lives were hanging in the balance.

Of course, I didn't listen to her. At that point, I had no concept of how my actions had consequences.

And then the storm started, slowly at first, but it was picking up speed.


	5. Chapter 4

**

* * *

**

Chapter Four: "Swan and Scorpion"

_**November 4, 2005**_

I always liked fairy tales, while my mother preferred fables.

I remember a story she told me once about a swan and a scorpion. One spring day after a storm, a swan and a scorpion stood before a raging river intending to cross it. The swan would have no trouble crossing it, but the scorpion, on the other hand, had no way to cross it for the currents would surely carry it away.

Seeing his dilemma, the scorpion turned to the swan and asked for safe passage. The swan hesitated, for he knew the scorpion's sting could be very deadly. Then he began to reason that surely the scorpion would not sting him if he was providing passage across the raging river. The swan told the scorpion to climb on his back, and he did.

As the duo approached the midway point across the river, the scorpion could no longer contain himself and stung the swan.

The swan felt the poison coursing through his body and began to sink. Yet he could not help but cry out, "Why? Why did you sting me?"

The scorpion, beginning to be carried away by the current replied, "Because that is what I do."

I sometimes wonder if I am like that scorpion. I don't mean for bad things to happen, and I don't mean to hurt people, but I still do it.

Mama once asked me why I couldn't leave the information she had about Ethan alone. But how could I? It was like the scorpion fighting against his very nature. It couldn't be done. And I couldn't fight against my very nature—my nature of curiosity.

* * *

_**Harmony, September 2000**_

"Stop asking, Theresa. I am not going to tell you about those documents," Pilar warned as she shook her head. "You are just like your father. So very, very stubborn."

"Persistent, Mama. Persistent," Theresa insisted.

"Stubborn, persistent. It's all the same," Pilar replied as she dried her hands on a dishtowel.

"Let me help, Mama," Theresa said as she walked to the stove and began stirring the pan of rice.

"Is Ethan still coming for dinner?" Pilar asked.

Theresa beamed. "He most certainly is. Oh, Mama, he makes me so happy! I used to always dream of him, but I never imagined that being with him would be like this—so wonderful!"

"I'm sure in your dreams you never imagined that Luis would be so hurt, Theresa."

Theresa sighed. The spell was broken. "Ethan is a good man. I just wish Luis could see that."

"Theresa, Luis can't see past the Crane name."

"But it's so unfair!"

"Luis has his reasons, and they are good ones, Theresita."

"But Ethan isn't like the other Cranes!"

Pilar nodded, thinking of the secret she shared with Ivy Crane. "You're right, _mi hija_. Ethan is not like the others, but he is still a Crane. He always will be."

Theresa was puzzled by her mother's words. "Of course he will be. Why wouldn't he?"

Pilar was startled. "I didn't mean it like that."

Theresa was about to question her mother further when they heard the knock on the door. "That must be Ethan! I'll get it," Theresas said excitedly.

Pilar watched her daughter rush out of the kitchen.

"_Dios_, please protect my Theresa," she whispered.

* * *

"Is anyone up for ice cream?" Theresa asked breaking the silence. She, her mother, and Ethan were sitting in the living room. It had been such a strange evening and her mother's mood very melancholy. "We have rocky road," she coaxed.

"It sounds great, Theresa. I'll help you," Ethan offered.

"No, Ethan. Why don't you stay in here?" Pilar suggested. "It will give us the chance to talk."

Theresa looked from her mother to Ethan and knew that something was going on. She didn't like it one bit.

"It'll be fine, Theresa," Ethan reassured her.

Theresa smiled weakly and headed into the kitchen.

Once she was out of earshot, Ethan turned to Pilar. "Pilar, is something bothering you? You've been so quiet tonight."

Pilar had, indeed, wanted to talk to Ethan, but now that the time had come, she was worried. She knew what she had to say might cost her daughter's happiness. Yet if she said nothing, what would become of Theresa?

Lacking courage, she replied, "Everything is fine, Ethan. Just fine."

"Why don't I believe you?" Ethan asked, genuine worry showing in his eyes.

Finally, Pilar began to open up. "If you must know, I am concerned for my Theresa."

"Why?"

Pilar looked at Ethan in disbelief. "Do you even have to ask?"

"Nothing bad is going to happen to Theresa. In fact, there's something I wanted to speak with you about."

"Oh?"

Ethan smiled. "Pilar, I love your daughter. With everything in my being, I love her. Theresa breezed into my life like a hurricane, taking my heart with her. I cannot imagine life without her."

"What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that I want to marry her, but I wanted to ask your permission first. I'm asking you for your daughter's hand in marriage."

A lump formed in Pilar's throat. There was no doubt in her mind that Ethan was being sincere. Theresa, if she'd heard his words, would be ecstatic. Yet how could she sanction an action that she knew would be feeding her daughter to the wolves?

"Ethan, you mustn't ask this of me," Pilar said, standing up. "I love my Theresa. And I love you, too, as though you were my own, but this—this is will only lead to heartache. Your family will never accept her."

Pilar watched as Ethan's face became crestfallen. She hated to disappoint him, hated to hurt him, but how could she give her blessing for what would most assuredly be a disaster?

"Father and Grandfather have given me their greatest assurances, Pilar. They know that I'll be with Theresa with or without their approval."

"Men say many things to their children, Ethan. It doesn't necessarily hold true."

"They wouldn't lie to me! Not about something so important."

Pilar closed her stinging eyes. There were so many things Ethan simply did not know about his family—and about himself.

"Ethan, the best thing you can do for my daughter is to let her go. Nothing good can come from this!"

"I don't understand. How can loving someone be wrong?" Ethan asked.

Pilar sighed. "You are like Theresa, a dreamer. You refuse to see things as they are."

"If Theresa was my wife, there would be nothing for you to be afraid of, Pilar. I could protect her from anyone who would dare hurt her. Once she carries the Crane name, no one would dare speak against her!"

"I know you believe that, but there is so much more going on than you realize."

"Then tell me!" Ethan insisted.

The door swung open. "Three ice creams coming up!" Theresa called out as she walked into the living room carrying a tray with bowls. She immediately noticed the grim looks her mother's and Ethan's faces.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, worry crossing her features.

Pilar looked down at her worn hands. "Fine, _mi hija_."

"Ethan?" Theresa asked.

Her voice was so small, so questioning, it made his heart ache. "Would you take a walk with me, Theresa?"

Theresa set down the tray of ice cream. "Sure," she replied.

He reached out for her, and she took his hand. "I'll be back in a little while, Mama."

Pilar nodded and watched the two of them leave. "Do the right thing, Ethan," she whispered. "End it with _mi niña_."

* * *

"You've been so quiet," Theresa commented as she and Ethan approached Lighthouse Park on their walk.

"I'm sorry. I guess I haven't been good company," Ethan replied.

She stopped and clasped both of his hands. "What did Mama say, Ethan? What has you so upset?"

Ethan knew he couldn't tell her. Not yet.

Leaning down, he lightly brushed his lips against hers. She parted her lips slightly, allowing him to deepen the kiss. "Do you have any idea of how much I love you?" he asked breathlessly as their kiss ended.

She smiled. "I think I'm starting to get a pretty good idea."

"The thought of something ever happening to you—or to us—scares me, Resa."

She wrapped her arms around his waist. "Aren't you the one always telling me that nothing and no one could ever come between us? Usually, you have enough confidence for both of us, Mr. Crane!" she teased.

He wanted to leave the conversation behind. "So tomorrow is your first day…"

She nodded. "I'm so nervous!" she exclaimed.

"You'll do fine," he said soothingly. "Those professors at Castleton College won't know what hit them!"

She groaned. "I don't know about that. At least Whitney will be there with me, though. We'll have each other for moral support. I just can't believe that tomorrow is actually the day! I've spent all summer putting off thinking about it, but now it's actually here."

"I believe in you, Theresa. I'm not the only one, by the way."

She tilted her head to the side and smiled. "What is that supposed to mean?"

He took her hand and led her to one of the park benches. "Nothing much. Just that I talked to Genevieve Markham earlier today," he replied.

"_The_ Genevieve Markham?"

He nodded. "She asked about you, actually. She noticed you at the party the other night and asked me about you."

Theresa's face fell. She could only imagine what Mrs. Markham must have been saying about her. Probably what everyone else had been chopping at the bits to say.

"Why so glum?" he asked touching her face.

"She's only one of the best designers in the country, Ethan, and she probably hates me already."

Ethan laughed lightly and kissed her on top of the head. "Silly girl! Actually, she was bragging on you. She commented on how beautiful you are and wondered whether you would be interested in modeling for her petite line."

Theresa looked at him in surprise. "She wondered about me _modeling_ for her?"

"It gets better," Ethan replied. "She said that you looked so exquisite in your gown. I mentioned to her that you happened to design and make it yourself. She was so impressed, she gave me her card and wants you to contact her."

Theresa squealed in delight. "Ethan, that's fabulous! I can't believe it! _The_ Genevieve Markham likes my work!"

"What is not to like? Theresa, you're amazing. In so many ways."

"I love you, Ethan," she said planting a kiss on his lips. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

He rested his hand on the nape of her neck, drawing her closer to him. His tongue swept through her mouth, and she kissed him back with such fervor, it left him wanting more.

He couldn't give her up the way Pilar wanted. He just couldn't.

She slid her hands under his shirt and lightly scraped her fingernails down his back. Touching his skin felt so good to her.

He traced kisses down her neck and then whispered in her ear, "You are driving me _crazy_, Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald!"

She looked into his eyes and could see the desire burning in them. What he felt was what she felt, too. "Someday, Ethan. Someday…"

* * *

"Did you and Ethan have a talk?" Pilar asked anxiously as her daughter opened the front door.

Seeing the dreamy look on Theresa's face, Pilar knew that if they talked, if wasn't a conversation about parting ways.

"We did," Theresa said with a happy sigh as she flopped down on the couch.

"And?"

"Mama, he is so wonderful! I just wish you could find it in your heart to be happy for us," Theresa replied. "He is always so gentle with me, so patient. He's never crossed the line or demanded more of me than I can give him. He's so considerate, so handsome. I love being with him and I just plain _love_ him."

"Oh Theresa," Pilar sighed.

"Sometimes I think he wants to ask me to marry him, but it's as though something is holding him back."

Pilar looked away, a motion that didn't escape Theresa. "What, Mama? What is it?"

"Ethan will not ask you to marry him," she stated.

Tears filled Theresa's eyes. "But why? Why would you say that?"

"Because I asked him not to do it."

"Why?" Theresa cried out plaintively.

"Theresa, there are things you don't know about the Cranes. I shouldn't even mention this, but there are things that could destroy you and Ethan. I can't allow that to happen. Don't you see?"

"It's not your decision, Mama!" Theresa said harshly.

"I am still your mother, and it is still my responsibility to protect you!"

"If this is your idea of protection, I don't want it!" With that, Theresa hurried into her room and slammed the door shut.

Clutching her pillow, she lay on her bed and cried softly. It was bad enough that Ethan's family wasn't enthusiastic about their relationship, but her own mother…..

"I won't give you up, Ethan," Theresa whispered.

* * *

The house was dark and quiet, but sleep would not come for Theresa. She soon found herself back in the living room, remembering her mother's words.

_"….there are things that could destroy you and Ethan…."_

_Why are you against us, Mama?_ Theresa wondered. It just didn't make any sense. Of course, her mother had been acting strangely for some time. She'd been edgy, jumpy.

Theresa remembered how startled her mother had been when she came home and saw her looking at those documents.

_The documents._

Theresa was certain that she'd seen Mrs. Crane's attaché case in the living room closet a few days ago. Were the documents still in there? Maybe they could shed some light on her mother's odd behavior.

Walking to the closet, she slowly swung the door open and turned on the interior light. Sure enough, the case was on the top shelf. Theresa pulled out the stepping stool and stood on it before grabbing the case.

She took it back to the couch and opened it.

* * *

So many things changed for me that night. The decisions I made marked the beginning of the end.

Ethan was the swan, and I was the scorpion.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: "Quicksand"**

_**November 9, 2005**_

It was five years ago today that we lost Luis.

_Five years. _

It still doesn't seem real. Luis was always so strong in my eyes, invincible. He was my protector whether I wanted him to be or not. He gave of himself and gave of himself and gave of himself. Always when I thought he had nothing left of himself to give, he would give more.

It was always about family for him. He would do _anything _for the family.

When Papa disappeared and Antonio left, he took it upon himself to be a surrogate father for Miguel and me. I didn't always appreciate it. In fact, I know I gave him grief. Yet he never gave up on me; he never stopped believing that I would grow into a worthwhile young woman even when I was bound by the chains of selfishness.

I guess that's why this still doesn't seem real. He was my protector, but he couldn't protect himself.

_He never saw it coming_.

It just makes me so angry! When I look back on these last few years. Losing Luis—and Mama—I can't help but feel an unhealthy dose of outrage and self-pity. I guess I still haven't outgrown my selfishness.

My family—dear God, how I miss them!

_When I think about what might have been…_

Genevieve remembered and came to see me today. I had just returned from the cemetery when she arrived at the shop with my favorite ice cream: rocky road. She's been a constant source of support to me. I'll never forget her kindness. Years ago, she took an interest in a rather young, rather green designer. Her generosity has allowed me to flourish; allowed me to build my own company. Yet the greatest thing I've gained is my friendship with her.

We have much in common, Genevieve and I. She was an outsider, just like I was. She knew what it was to be the object of ridicule and pettiness from women and the subject of dirty jokes from men. At a time when I felt as though I were sinking in quicksand, she extended a branch.

I know she wishes that I would put the past completely behind me, but she never pressures me. I guess one could say that she knows when to speak, and she knows when to listen.

Shay showed up not long after Genevieve left. He possesses the same genuine kindness that his mother does, but there's also something of a roguishness about him. I think he's alternately appealing and unnerving.

He's made his interest in me quite clear, but I'm just not ready.

How could I be? Ethan is the love of my life. Despite everything, I still feel that way.

I _know_ that he will be back.

_Quicksand._

For some reason, my mind keeps drifting back to that word.

Sometimes I think that I'm still sinking in it. Or maybe I'm just drowning in self-pity.

Funny how I just can't seem to tell the difference anymore.

_**November 7, 2000**_

Uneasiness washed over Theresa as she stood in the airport terminal with Ethan, awaiting the arrival of his Aunt Sheridan. It was the first time she'd scheduled a trip to Harmony in years. She'd spent most of her life in Paris, first as a student and then as a tireless patron of various charities.

"I can't wait for you to meet her, Theresa," Ethan said with a grin on his face. "My Aunt Sheridan and I were more like brother and sister growing up than aunt and nephew. She's the one I'm closest to in the family."

Theresa bit her bottom lip nervously. She was happy to see Ethan so excited, but she was scared at the same time. "I hope she'll like me, Ethan."

"Of course she'll like you!" Ethan replied reassuringly as he encircled her waist. "If she is able to see just the tiniest part of what I'm able to see in you, she'll be absolutely crazy about you!"

"It's just that—" Theresa hesitated before continuing. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "It's just that I know that Sheridan and Gwen are very good friends."

"They are," Ethan conceded. "But you and Sheridan will become friends, too. I'm sure of it. She knows how happy you make me, Theresa."

Theresa smiled and playfully asked, "So I make you happy, Mr. Crane?"

"Deliriously," he replied huskily.

"Is there something I could do to make you even _more_ happy?"

Her words were innocent, but her tone was not. Ethan's right eyebrow shot up, and Theresa giggled.

"You are terrible for my self-control, Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald," Ethan whispered into her ear. He then took her hand. "You have me wrapped right around your little finger," he added before kissing the tip of her pinky lightly.

Her heart began pounding. Ethan was always making her feel sensations that she never knew existed.

"There is a way to remedy that self-control issue, you know," she replied.

He groaned. "We will. _After _we're married."

Being married to Ethan seemed like a wonderful dream; a wonderful dream that would never come true. They'd spoken of it in the abstract, but never in any detail. After her mother's refusal to give Ethan permission to marry her, Theresa had been devastated. Her greatest desire was within her sight but always out of reach.

"I'm beginning to think that Mama and Luis will never support us in this, Ethan."

"They will, Theresa. When they see how happy we are together and that my family can't touch us, they'll come to accept it. They'll give us their blessing. And when they do—" He leaned in for a kiss. "—we'll make it official. I am going to be so proud to be your husband."

She rested her head against his chest and sighed. "You're too good to be true."

*****

When Ethan, Theresa, and Sheridan returned to the mansion, they arrived amidst a flurry of activity. Preparations were being made for a charity ball for two nights hence. Rebecca and Gwen Hotchkiss were there as well, though Theresa was starting to feel as though they were permanent fixtures in the Crane residence. Their constant skulking about only added to her unease.

Upon seeing Sheridan, Gwen immediately embraced her friend. The two talked excitedly of the latest news in Parisian society and the Italian leather handbag that Sheridan brought for Gwen, among other things.

Theresa had been relieved when Sheridan greeted her at the airport with politeness that didn't seem forced, unlike Julian or Alistair Crane. She was hopeful that they would, indeed, become friends.

Yet seeing Sheridan and Gwen interact made Theresa's insecurities resurface.

Her head was swimming when she saw Gwen latch onto Ethan's arm with such ease. She smiled, looking up at him and said, "It's just like it used to be. The three of us together again."

Theresa turned away, and Rebecca Hotchkiss approached her.

"Ivy tells me that you've been a big help with planning this event," Rebecca said placing her hand on Theresa's back and leading her away.

"I'm glad she thinks so. I've tried to help where I can."

"Then perhaps you can give me the inside scoop on something, Theresa."

"What do you want to know, Mrs. Hotchkiss?" Theresa asked.

"I was hoping you could tell me about the menu. Can we expect to see pigs in a blanket? Or better yet, how about chips and salsa?"

Theresa gasped. She couldn't believe this woman's audacity.

"Don't act so shocked, Theresita. We both know you're out of your league, and Ethan's going to figure it out, too. Let's face it; you are a bit common for the heir to the Crane Empire."

"Don't you have better things to do, Mrs. Hotchkiss?"

"Whatever do you mean?" Rebecca asked, batting her eyelashes.

"You spend your days running interference for your daughter. What is it that really bothers you? Is it the fact that Ethan broke up with Gwen? Or is it the fact that Ethan broke up with Gwen for a girl who is not from your social set?"

"Just a little word of advice for you, Theresa. Men enjoy spice. A little _chile verde_ here, a little _chile verde_ there. But guess what? After a while, _chiles_ lose their heat. And what do men do? They go back to what is familiar and what they know tastes good."

Theresa took a deep breath, determined not to let Rebecca Hotchkiss see her crumble. Fortunately, she was, in a sense, rescued.

"Theresa," Ivy called to her. "Could you come look at these floral arrangements? They just don't seem quite right to me. Perhaps you could suggest something."

"I'll see what I can do," Theresa replied, glaring one last time at Rebecca before she headed across the room toward Ivy.

Ivy stood, arms crossed, studying the floral arrangements. "What do you think?"

"They look off balance somehow," Theresa said as she rubbed her chin in thought. "This was not at all what I intended." Immediately, she went to work on the arrangements.

Ivy watched in amazement. "How do you do it, Theresa? You always know just how to make everything perfect."

"Well, I don't know about that, Mrs. Crane, but I have always enjoyed designing."

"I don't know what I ever did before you came to work here," Ivy said. "What would I do without you?"

"Well, you're never going to have to find out," Theresa promised.

Ivy glanced at her son who stood across the room with Sheridan and Gwen, talking and laughing. "You make my son very happy, Theresa."

"He makes me happy, too, Mrs. Crane. _So_ happy."

Ivy touched Theresa's shoulder. "I know that it hasn't been easy for you enduring the stares, the whispers. But I must say that you've handled yourself with dignity and grace. I saw Rebecca a moment ago, circling you like a vulture. Yet you didn't lose your cool."

Theresa glanced back at Ethan and felt her heart quicken. "It's because I have faith. My love for Ethan and his love for me are stronger than anything that people can throw at us. It might sound childish to say, but it's true. I believe in him, and I believe in us."

Theresa noticed that Ivy's eyes had a faraway look in them. She was also unconsciously fingering the locket she wore around her neck. It made Theresa wonder about Mrs. Crane and Chief Bennett. What must it have been like for them?

"Yes, Theresa, when you find true love, you must hold onto it."

Theresa sighed. If only her mother and Luis could support her the way Ethan's mother had. It hurt to know that they disapproved so strongly. Yet she wouldn't give Ethan up. She couldn't.

"You're right, Mrs. Crane. Absolutely right," Theresa agreed.

She glanced toward Ethan, and their eyes met. He smiled at her and began to approach.

Her heart began to beat wildly as he encircled her waist and pulled her close.

"I've missed you," he whispered into her ear. "What have you been doing?"

"A little bit of this and that," she replied. "I didn't think you would notice. You were catching up with Sheridan and Gwen. I didn't want to impose."

"I _always_ notice when you aren't near," he declared.

She laughed lightly. "I think my heart must be going a mile a minute!"

He took her hand and placed it over his heart. "Mine, too," he said with a smile. "You do know that my heart beats only for you, don't you?"

"Yes, Ethan. I know," Theresa replied. "What you feel….well, it's what I feel for you, too."

Ivy sighed. Even if she didn't have the happiness she's always wanted, she was content in the knowledge that her son did have happiness.

Ethan and Theresa looked at his mother. So completely lost in their own world, they'd forgotten they weren't alone in the room.

"It makes me happy just to see the two of you," Ivy said softly.

Ethan smiled at Ivy. "It's only a matter of time, Mother." He looked down at Theresa and touched her face. "We'll make them understand, Resa. We will."

She nodded slightly. He knew that it weighed heavily on her heart that they were met by such opposition to their relationship.

"Will you come upstairs with me for a few minutes? I have something I want to show you," he said.

She smiled. "What is it?"

"A surprise," he replied with a twinkle in his eyes. "And I know how much you like surprises."

"Indeed I do," Theresa said before giving him a peck on the cheek.

Ethan took Theresa's hand, led her past Sheridan and Gwen, into the foyer and up the stairs.

Gwen watched them with great interest, an action that was not lost upon Sheridan. "You're not over Ethan, are you?" Sheridan asked.

Gwen looked at her friend wistfully. "We're just friends, Sheridan. I suppose that's better than nothing. Nearly ten years together…" her voice trailed off.

Sheridan frowned. "It's one thing to continue a friendship, but you've been spending a lot of time here, haven't you? Gwen, you can't do that to yourself. You need to get out, meet new people."

Gwen smiled. "I suppose I could say the same thing to you, Sheridan."

Sheridan groaned. "Believe me, if I thought that the perfect man for me was out there, I would be looking more actively. But after a few wolves like Jean-Luc….let's just say that I don't think I have it in me right now."

"Physician, heal thyself!"

"Touché. I know that I'm not exactly in the perfect position to be advising you about relationships, but I can see this: you deserve to have someone who can be the man you need him to be. Ethan is not the one for you."

"But Sheridan, I think he is. After he gets this fling with Theresa out of his system, he'll realize it, too." Gwen's voice dropped. "I am convinced that she is only after his money. I mean, the girl hardly has two pennies of her own to rub together that the Crane family hasn't given to her. Ethan is the golden goose."

Sheridan shook her head slightly. "I don't think so, Gwen. I just get this sense about her. She's crazy about Ethan."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "It's called _acting_. I guarantee, if Ethan wasn't the heir to the Crane fortune, she would be out of here quicker than either of us could say, 'Adios.'"

"How did your mother take the news of the breakup?"

"Not well. I know she was concerned about the business aspect—the merger, but sometimes she just makes me want to scream. Do you have any idea of what it's like to have such an overbearing mother?"

A shadow crossed Sheridan's features. Her own mother had died when Sheridan was but a child. She missed Katherine Crane terribly and often wondered how differently things might have turned out if she was still living.

"I—I'm sorry, Sheridan. I wasn't thinking."

"It's okay," Sheridan reassured her. "I know you didn't mean anything by it."

Gwen sighed. "I just can't seem to do anything right these days. With Ethan, with my mother, at work." She walked into the foyer and stood at the bottom of the stairs, touching the railing. "What do you suppose they're doing up there?" she wondered.

*****

"Mmmm," Theresa said as she and Ethan walked into his room. "Alone at last!"

"Were things too crowded for you down there?" Ethan asked.

"Maybe a little," Theresa admitted as she sat on the edge of his bed. "I try not to let Rebecca or Gwen get to me, but I just feel as though they're always watching me."

"Rebecca came to help Mother prepare for the party, and Gwen wanted to see Sheridan."

"I know. It's just that people can always find a reason. That doesn't mean it's the real reason. I guess I just get the feeling that they're waiting for me to trip up so they can step on me."

Ethan sat next to Theresa. "Rebecca might be somewhat overzealous, but Gwen's not like that. She's a decent person, Theresa. I just hope that she'll be able to find someone who makes her as happy as you make me."

A shadow suddenly crossed Ethan's features.

"What is it, Ethan?" Theresa asked.

He took a deep breath. "I just hope that it will always be like this with us, Theresa."

"Of course it will be! I love you, Ethan. Nothing could possibly change that!"

He stood and began pacing. "It's just that I look at the marriage my parents have; they barely tolerate one another. It goes to show how quickly things can change. Mother always told me that I was conceived in love, but to look at them now…." His voice trailed off.

Theresa swallowed hard, the knowledge of the secret eating away at her.

"And sometimes, I feel so alienated from the family. Maybe it's just because I think differently than Father and Grandfather or have different values, but sometimes, I have a hard time believing that I'm a Crane at all."

Perhaps it was time to tell the truth of what she knew. "W—would you _want_ to be something other than a Crane, Ethan?" she asked hesitantly.

"No, of course not. Good or bad, this is my family. Being a Crane means everything to me! I know a lot of people don't like my family, but I plan to change that. Theresa, I'm going to be in position to do so much good."

How could she tell him?

She couldn't.

Theresa stood and took his hands in her own. "No matter what your last name is, I love you, Ethan. I always will."

"I know you do, Theresa. And I love you, too. For your goodness, for your honesty. I know you would never lie to me, never keep anything from me."

Theresa felt her face grow hot. He believed in her so completely, trusted in her so completely, and she wasn't worthy of either sentiment. "Ethan, I'm not as good as you think I am."

He pulled her close to him. "I know," he said kissing her lips gently. "You're even better."

Her heart was pounding as he teased her lips apart. His kisses always left her wanting so much more. Yet he always stopped before things went too far.

After a moment, he broke away from her with a grin. "I told you that I brought you up here for a surprise."

"Wasn't that kiss my surprise?" she asked.

"Actually….no." He walked to the nightstand next to his bed and opened the drawer. From it, he pulled a long, rectangular-shaped velvet box.

He gave it to her, and she hesitated, running her fingers over the soft velvet exterior.

"It's what's _inside_ the box that is the surprise," he teased.

Slowly, she opened it.

She gasped. Inside was the most beautiful diamond necklace she'd ever seen. "Ethan, it's…it's exquisite!"

"Just like you. It doesn't quite sparkle like your eyes, but it was the closest thing I could find."

She closed the box and handed it to him. "It was so sweet of you, but I can't accept it. It's too much."

He touched her face. "Are you kidding, Theresa? This is just the start. I want to shower you with gifts for the rest of your life!"

"I don't need anything but you, Ethan. Just you," she replied. "The gifts, the money…they don't matter to me!"

"Which is one of the many reasons I love you, Resa. But if you don't take the necklace, this is going to present me with a problem," he began.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, this necklace has a companion that is meant to be worn around here," he said encircling her wrist with his fingers. "And here," he added as he took her left hand and touched her ring finger.

Hope rose within her. "Are you saying…"

He looked at her innocently. "I didn't say anything," he said with mock seriousness.

She knew exactly what he was saying. Squealing with delight, she threw her arms around his neck. "I love you, Ethan!" she said covering him with light kisses. "I love you, I love you, I love you…"

*****

The doorbell rang.

Again.

Gwen crossed her arms. "Isn't anyone going to get that?" she asked.

Sheridan stood from where she'd been sitting on the couch. "Maybe everyone's busy. Besides, we're here. We can do it."

She walked through the foyer and swung open the front door. Standing outside was a handsome man with dark hair and eyes. He was dressed in a khaki colored police uniform. His arms were folded over his broad chest.

Sheridan's mouth suddenly felt very dry. "Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for my sister," the man replied. "I'm Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald."

"Oh, you're Theresa's brother?" Sheridan asked. "It's nice to meet you. My name is Sheridan. Sheridan Crane."

Was that a flash of anger she saw when she mentioned her name? Sheridan wondered.

"I'm afraid I don't have time for pleasantries. I need to see my sister, and I need to see her now."

Gwen appeared behind Sheridan. "Hello, Officer Lopez-Fitzgerald. Theresa is upstairs with Ethan in his bedroom," she said cheerily.

Luis's jaw clenched as he walked past the two women and bounded up the stairs.

Sheridan closed the front door and turned around to look at Gwen. "Why did you do that?"

"Do what?" Gwen asked innocently. "He wanted to know where his sister was. All I did was tell him."

Sheridan sighed. "I hope he doesn't find anything he shouldn't."

"Don't worry, Sheridan. It wouldn't hurt any for Luis to get a clue that his perfect little sister isn't so perfect after all."

"He just seemed so upset, Gwen. It has me wondering."

"Is that _all_ you're wondering?" Gwen asked.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Gwen replied coyly, "except that I saw the way you were looking at him. Admit it, Sheridan. You're interested in him."

"I am not!" Sheridan protested. "I don't even know the man! Besides, after the way he became so chilly after I told him my name, I don't think I even _want_ to know him."

Gwen yawned. "You aren't missing anything. He's common. Just like his sister."

*****

The door to Ethan's bedroom swung open, surprising both Ethan and Theresa. They looked to the opening and saw a rather irate Luis standing in the doorway. The two of them had been kissing, and Ethan still had his arms wrapped around Theresa.

"Get your hands off of my sister!" Luis demanded.

"Luis? What is this?" Theresa asked, anger starting to rise in her voice.

Luis walked over to where they stood and took Theresa by the arm. "You're coming with me. Now."

Ethan felt his face grow hot. "Let go of her, Luis."

Luis glared at Ethan. "You don't tell me what to do, Crane."

"Luis, stop it!" Theresa said jerking away from him. "What has you so upset?"

Luis took a deep breath. "I'm sorry, Theresa. I was just afraid for you. There are things that you don't know…."

Theresa took Ethan's hand in her own. "Luis, there is nothing to be afraid of. Nothing bad is going to happen to me, especially not when Ethan is around."

Ethan nodded. "Nothing bad is going to happen to her _period_. I'm not sure what it is you think you know, Luis, but I'm not going to let you come in here and scare your sister half to death."

Luis ignored him. "Theresa, I really need to talk to you. Please come with me."

His tone made Theresa realize that something had, indeed, happened. It wasn't just a matter of her brother blowing hot air. "All right, Luis. I'll come."

"Theresa—" Ethan protested.

She turned to him and smiled slightly. "I'll be back later. I promise."

* * *

I left with Luis that day to hear what he had to say. Dear God, I didn't want to believe any of it. He went on and on about the Cranes being responsible for Papa's disappearance. Actually, Luis didn't even call it a disappearance anymore. He called it a murder.

Piece by piece, he starting laying evidence before me.

I didn't want to hear it.

He begged me to end my relationship with Ethan, promising that the Cranes were about to be taken down.

I was in denial.

Surely Ethan's family would not do something so callous—so cruel—as to take our father away from us and let us go on wishing, hoping, and praying for years and years that he would come back.

It simply couldn't be!

Luis insisted the Cranes were dangerous.

I wouldn't accept it.

Sure, Julian and Alistair could be harsh. I'd seen it firsthand in their initial reaction to my relationship with Ethan. But co-conspirators in the murder of Papa? There was no way.

Luis was frustrated with me, exasperated even. He finally told me to choose. He wouldn't allow me to 'consort' with the very people who had caused our family so much pain. It was either him or Ethan.

At that point, I wasn't convinced that the Cranes were responsible, but I was so angry with my brother for putting me in the position of making that choice, for asking me to give up the love of my life.

In my haste and anger, I chose Ethan.

How it must have hurt Luis and disappointed him!

I only wish I'd had the chance to make it up to him. The chance never came.

* * *

_**Harmony, November 9, 2000**_

"It's beautiful here tonight," Theresa said quietly as she and Ethan danced.

She looked around her. Ladies in glamorous gowns and men in their tuxedos were everywhere. Everyone had pronounced the Crane Charity Ball to be a success. Yet Theresa didn't feel much like sharing in the festivities. Too many things were weighing heavily on her mind.

"Then why do you look as though you'd rather be anywhere _but_ here?" Ethan murmured into her ear.

She sighed. "I'm sorry, Ethan. I just can't stop thinking about Luis."

"What did he say that has you so upset?" Ethan asked. "You can trust me."

"I know I can trust you, but I—I can't talk about it," she replied quickly. "Some things just shouldn't be said."

He held her close and could feel her soft, warm body moving with his. He hated that she'd been having such a difficult time with her brother, but there was a part of him that never wanted the moment to end. He loved having her in his arms.

"I'll leave it alone—for now."

In silence they continued to dance, just content to be near one another.

It was some time later that the party was interrupted. Sam Bennett and Hank Bennett appeared at the door, both with ashen faces. Murmurs of curiosity sounded throughout the room.

As Sam and Hank approached her, Theresa was seized with fear. What could have happened?

Ethan stood behind her, his hands resting on her shoulders.

"What is it?" Theresa asked in a small voice, the fear she felt, creeping in.

"Is there someplace we could go to talk?" Sam asked.

"Please, tell me now!" Theresa pleaded.

"Theresa, it's about Luis," Sam started. His voice quivered. How could he tell her the news when he hardly believed it himself? It just didn't seem possible!

"What about Luis?" Ethan asked.

Sam took Theresa's hands. "I'm sorry, Theresa, but Luis was killed tonight while he was on duty."

"No! There has to be some mistake!"

"I wish there were, T," Hank said, tears beginning to fill his eyes.

"You're wrong about this! You're both wrong! Where is Mama? I have to find Mama!"

"She's at the hospital with Miguel. They went when they heard Luis had been taken in," Sam explained.

"No," she said quietly. "No! Do you hear me? It isn't true!"

"Theresa, it was a gunshot wound. Luis…he never saw it coming."

Tears streamed down her face, the images of those around her becoming blurred. Ethan held onto her tightly, and led her out of the ballroom with Sam and Hank close behind.

* * *

It was an unhealthy dose of reality I received that night. Life isn't always about happy endings, rainbows, and joy. Life is filled with regrets, storms, and pain.

And yes, things fall apart.

No matter how much you try to keep everything together, things still fall apart.

Little did I know that losing Luis was just a hint of what was to come.


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** Obviously I do not own _Passions_. If I did, you can be assured that the show would have been _quite _different.

**Chapter Six: "Borrowed Time"**

**November 13, 2005**

Shay Markham kissed me.

I'm not even sure what to think. It really took me by surprise.

I know that women are always chasing after him. He's handsome, he's funny, he's kind, he's one of my dearest friends. What is not to like?

It had been so long since anyone held me close. He's the first man since Ethan that I've even let near me. I just—I'm just not sure. Being near him reminded me of one little fact that I've tried to put out of my mind for so long. It's nice to be wanted.

But where do I go from here? Ethan is still in my heart. I can't seem to let go. I know I should. I get tired of enduring the whispers, the stares, the pity. But how can I let go of the man who has been my dream for as long as I can remember?

Shay was disappointed when I told him that I wasn't ready to give up on Ethan. I know he assumes the worst, that Ethan isn't coming back because he's found someone else. I just don't believe that. Ethan would have the decency to tell me. He would. I _know_ he would.

But that ever-present question nags at me. Where is Ethan? Why doesn't he call? I know I hurt him badly. I know that I don't deserve his consideration, let alone his love anymore, but the Ethan I know wouldn't just turn and walk away from me forever. Especially not after everything we meant to one another.

Things are so changed since last I saw him. My family is, for all intents and purposes, non-existent. Mama and Luis are gone, and Miguel lives in New Mexico now. It's rare for him to call. And here I am….clinging to the old.

What's wrong with me?

Why can't I just let go?

Haven't I waited long enough?

Haven't I sacrificed enough?

Yet when I think about the way things used to be, it's worth it. It's worth it to believe in Ethan because he was my everything. He _is_ my everything.

Yet we were loving on borrowed time.

* * *

**November 9, 2000**

When Ethan and Theresa arrived at the hospital, Pilar and Miguel were speaking with the attending physician, making arrangements for the transfer of Luis's body. Theresa clung to Ethan's hand. He was her lifeline.

Numbness.

It was all Theresa could feel as she looked at her mother and brother. It didn't seem real. People walked past them, their own concerns on their mind. They had no idea of what was going on, no idea at all.

"Mama," Theresa whispered.

Pilar turned toward daughter and Ethan. Theresa was astonished by her mother's appearance. She looked ten years older, as though it had happened instantly. Her eyes were red and swollen, the lines underneath them more pronounced. Yet what Theresa saw _in_ her mother's eyes scared her. Pilar Lopez-Fitzgerald looked haunted.

"Theresa," Pilar replied as she took her daughter in her arms.

"Please, Mama, tell me that it isn't true," Theresa begged.

"_Lo siento, mi hija_."

"H—how?"

Miguel rubbed his sister's back. "He w—was patrolling the wharf. No one knows exactly how it happened, Theresa, but he was shot." His voice was shaky and his face tear-stained.

"But surely Sam and the others have _some_ idea!"

Pilar broke away from her daughter and turned from Theresa.

"Mama, what is it?" Theresa asked.

Pilar turned back around and looked at Ethan, then to her daughter. "Theresita, we need to talk. Alone."

Something in Pilar's voice frightened Theresa. She nodded, trying to remain strong. She had to remain strong for her mother's sake. They walked into one of the empty waiting rooms.

Pilar closed the door behind them and then stroked her daughter's hair. "Listen to me, Theresa. I need you to tell me everything you know."

Theresa shook her head. "I—I don't understand, Mama. I don't know anything."

"Luis spoke to you a few days ago about his suspicions, did he not?"

Theresa covered her mouth with her hand. "Do you mean to tell me that you are taking what he was saying seriously?"

"Yes, _mi hija_, and I have the feeling that I'm not the only one who took what he said seriously."

"What are you saying?"

"They took my husband, and now they've taken my son," Pilar replied bitterly, tears streaming down her face.

"No, Mama! You're wrong about this, just as Luis was wrong! The Cranes are _not _responsible for this! There's no reason for it because they aren't responsible for Papa's disappearance! They aren't!"

"Look around you, Theresa! Look around! Luis was close to having the evidence he needed to implicate Alistair and Julian Crane in Martin's murder."

"Murder? Wh—where is this coming from? We don't know that Papa is gone. We don't!"

Pilar placed her hand over her chest. "In my heart, Theresa—in my heart I've known. I've always known but didn't want to believe it."

"No…" Theresa whispered.

"Listen to me. I need you to be strong, Theresa. What exactly did Luis say to you?"

"He just warned me, Mama. He mentioned documents—I think. Something that connects the Cranes to Papa, but I still don't believe it."

"Say nothing of this to anyone, Theresa. And you must keep your distance from Ethan."

"Ethan is not part of this Mama. He's good."

"Yes, Theresa, he is a good man, but he's also a Crane. When it comes down to it, he will sacrifice you if it means keeping his family," Pilar warned.

"But Mama, he's not like the others. He's not a Crane. He's a Bennett!"

"You must never say that aloud again!" Pilar hissed. "You had no business looking through those papers to begin with, let alone any business mentioning what you saw."

Theresa sighed. "But it's true, Mama. He has a right to know!"

"For his protection, as well as your own, I pray that he never finds out," Pilar replied. With that, Pilar pushed open the door to the room and walked out, leaving behind a stunned Theresa.

Trying to shake off her fears, Theresa followed her mother, who was standing with Miguel and Ethan.

"Mama—"

Pilar shook her head. "I can't deal with this right now, _mi hija_. Just leave me be."

Theresa wiped away the tears that were welling in her eyes and nodded.

Saying nothing, Ethan put his arm around Theresa and kissed the top of her head. She looked so tired, so upset. He only wished that he could take those feelings from her. If he could only do something to make her smile….

Theresa looked up into his handsome face. She could see the love, devotion, and concern reflected in his eyes. Her heart skipped a beat.

She loved him.

With all her heart, she loved him.

What Mama implied about Ethan's family had to be wrong. It had to be!

"Will you take me home, please?" she asked, her voice quivering.

"Of course," he replied. "Would you like a ride, Pilar? Miguel?"

Pilar looked to her son. "No thank you, Ethan. Miguel and I will be going to Sam and Grace's home."

Theresa frowned. Her mother hadn't mentioned this before. "Mama, if you like, I can go with you," she offered.

"No, Theresa, I think it would be best this way. Perhaps you will have the opportunity to take care of what you need to do."

Theresa shook her head. She knew exactly what her mother meant, but she wouldn't do it. She wouldn't give Ethan up.

"Let's go," Theresa said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The ride back to the Lopez-Fitzgerald house was uneventful, quiet. Theresa merely stared out the window of Ethan's car, letting the tears run freely. She'd lost Luis that night, but she also had the feeling that her mother was pulling away from her.

When they finally arrived at Theresa's house, Ethan took her house key and unlocked the door. Flipping the light switch, he stepped aside so that she could enter.

A sob caught in her throat when she saw Luis's sneakers next to the couch in the living room. He always had a terrible habit of leaving his shoes out.

"Why?"

Ethan put his arms around her, enveloping her in a hug. He kissed her salty tears away. "I'm going to run a hot bath for you, Theresa."

She nodded.

He walked into the bathroom and began filling the tub with hot water. Theresa sat on the couch, her hands resting on her ball gown.

It was supposed to be such a beautiful night spent dancing in Ethan's arms. How could such a beautiful night turn out so ugly?

Ethan walked back into the room, knelt before her, and placed his hands on her knees. "It will be ready in another minute or two."

She reached out for him, running her fingers through his hair. "I love you, Ethan. So much that it scares me. Promise me that no matter what, we won't let anyone separate us."

He leaned forward, lightly touching her lips with his own. "I promise," he whispered against her lips. "Nothing will ever separate us, Resa. You are my best friend, my soul mate."

She kissed him fervently, never wanting their kiss to end, fearful that it would, and when it did, everything between them would end, as well. They were loving on borrowed time.

He pulled her up. "Go take your bath. It should relax you," he instructed.

She nodded and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. A moment later, she opened the door again. "I need your help," she said. "Mama's not here…"

"What do you need?"

"Could you unfasten the back of my dress? I can't reach the clasps," she replied.

Ethan rested his hand along the small of her back, and deftly loosed the fasteners on her gown. She held her arm across her chest to keep the dress from falling down as the back of her dress opened.

Ethan traced his fingers down Theresa's bare back, drawing in a breath. She was so beautiful.

Theresa, still holding up her dress, turned to look at him. "Thank you," she said, managing a small smile. She was amused by his bewildered look. She knew that he was very attracted to her, but it was nice to be reminded of that fact sometimes.

She disappeared into the bathroom, stripped off her clothes, and sank into the water, letting it wash over her. Cupping water in her hands, she ran it over her tear-stained face. Taking a deep breath, she willed the tears that were forming in her eyes once again to go away. She still didn't want to believe it was true. Luis had always been her protector. For him to be gone….

_Gone_.

It was a word of finality.

She still didn't accept the finality of the situation. Nor did she accept what her mother told her. There was no way Ethan's family could be responsible! Her mother was just grasping at straws, trying to find somewhere to place the blame.

Theresa closed her eyes, imagining what must have happened. Perhaps Luis caught someone in the middle of a drug deal. Yes, that could be it. When he tried to apprehend the suspect, that's when it happened. Or perhaps he was saving someone from being mugged.

No. That couldn't be it. Sam said that he never saw it coming.

Never saw it coming….never saw it coming….

"Luis," she whispered. Her protector, the man who had been like a father to her, was gone.

So many memories drifted through her mind. When Luis was in high school, he used to take her to get ice cream. It was always rocky road, her favorite. Sometimes he would even take her to the waterfront. He would pick her up, setting her on the railing at the pier so that she could look out over the ocean. Always, he held onto her from behind, but she didn't mind. It made her feel like she was floating above the water.

He'd given up so much for the family. Theresa knew that at one point he'd wanted to marry Beth Wallace, but didn't because he wanted to help Mama with Miguel and her.

Family came first.

Always.

_I let him down. Dear God, I let him down!_

She pulled her knees to her chest and began to cry freely.

_I let him down._

Sobs tore from her throat, coming quickly. She cried so hard, it was becoming difficult to breathe.

_He died thinking that I hated him!_

She couldn't catch her breath.

Ethan knocked on the door, hearing her sobs and the sound of her labored breathing. "Theresa? Are you alright?"

Theresa tried to answer him, but couldn't form the words.

"Theresa?"

No answer.

Ethan swung open the door. He knelt next to the tub and took her face between his hands. "Look at me, Theresa."

She did, fear in her eyes.

"Listen carefully. You're hyperventilating. Try to relax. Try to breathe more slowly."

She nodded, her breathing still fast.

"Take in a breath. Hold it." He paused for a minute. "Now, let it go." He stroked her damp hair and stayed by her side until her breathing returned to normal.

The tears continued, and a shiver ran through her. Ethan grabbed a towel, putting it around her shoulders. He averted his gaze as she stood and wrapped it around herself. Taking her hand, he helped her as she stepped out of the tub.

"Are you okay now?" he asked gently.

"I'm f-fine. I just feel so stupid," she replied softly.

He pulled her close. He could feel the dampness of her wet skin seeping through the towel. "There is no reason to feel stupid. You've been through so much, Theresa. I just—I never should have left you alone."

"Ethan, it's not your fault. None of it," she replied.

Her words were tinged with a double meaning, and that small fact was not lost on him. He pulled her over-sized terrycloth robe off its hook and draped it over her shoulders. "Theresa, what's really going on?"

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to collect her thoughts. "I—I shouldn't talk about it."

"Not even to me?"

She shook her head and walked out of the bathroom. As she walked into the living room, she saw that he had lit a fire in the fireplace and even made hot cocoa. She sat on the floor in front of the fire, wanting to feel the warmth of its flames.

He sat behind her, wrapping his arms around her. He rested his chin on the top of her head.

"Ethan, he died thinking that I hated him," she finally said.

"Resa, Luis knew that you loved him. He _knew_."

"I—I turned my back on him. He tried to tell me things that I just didn't want to hear, and I wasn't going to have any of it. If—if I could only go back, Ethan. Just to make things right…"

"You can't do this to yourself. I'm not going to let you!" He touched her face and turned her head gently. Her body shifted around to face him. "People have disagreements all the time, Theresa. That doesn't mean that they stop loving each other. Luis would never doubt your love for him. Never!"

"What am I going to do without him? And Mama—she's devastated. Miguel, too."

"It's going to be hard. Probably the hardest thing you've ever done," Ethan responded. "But you're strong, Theresa. You get your strength from your mother. Miguel does, too. Together, you can do anything."

Theresa looked down. "Right now, Mama doesn't want anything to do with me. She thinks—" Theresa cut her statement short. Her mother had warned her against saying about the Cranes to Ethan.

"She thinks what?"

"She's just upset with me right now. That's all."

Ethan placed his hand under Theresa's chin and gently lifted it. "She'll work through it."

"I wanted this to be such a beautiful night for us, Ethan."

"Don't you know that every time I'm near you, I feel like the luckiest man alive?" he asked as he lightly brushed his lips against hers. "You captivate me, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald."

She pulled him closer, deepening their kiss. His tongue swept through her mouth, making her feel feverish. Only Ethan could make her feel this way. Only Ethan.

Reaching between them, she began to unbutton his shirt, lightly tracing her fingers over his chest. He drew in a sharp breath. "Theresa—"

Running her hands upward, she slid the shirt off his shoulders.

Her mouth found his again, kissing him fiercely. Lightly, she traced kisses down his neck, across his collarbone, and down his chest. He buried his hands in her hair, waves of sensations washing over him.

She leaned back, pulling him on top of her. She could feel the evidence of his arousal against her.

Looking up into his eyes, she said, "I don't want to wait, Ethan."

He sucked in a breath. He wanted her. _Badly._ But so much had happened. She was hurting, confused. He couldn't take advantage of that. "Theresa, I'm not so sure this is a good idea. After everything that has happened tonight…" He moved away from her and sat up.

"I know you _want_ to," she said pointedly.

Ethan smiled wryly. "Wanting you has never been a problem for me. I just want it to be special for you, for there to never be any doubt between us."

She sat up and placed her head on his shoulder. "I trust you, Ethan. With everything that I am, I trust you. And don't you know that every minute I spend with you _is_ special?"

He took her tiny hands in his. "I know that being in a relationship with me hasn't been the easiest thing in the world. People haven't been kind, some members of my own family included."

"It doesn't matter to me. You're all that matters."

"But it matters to me. Theresa, someday I want to make you my wife. I never want there to be any question of my feelings for you—or my intentions."

"But I do believe in you, Ethan. I _know_ that you are the _only_ one for me. I never even knew I could feel so many things at once. You tilt my world on its axis!"

He kissed her hands. "I love you." He shook his head and marveled to himself, "Somehow, those words don't even seem adequate for how I feel. I live you, breathe you."

A knocking on the door caught both of their attentions. Ethan quickly pulled his shirt on and said, "I'll get it."

Walking to the door, he twisted the lock and pulled it open. On the front steps stood Rebecca and Gwen Hotchkiss.

Somberly, Gwen said, "We heard what happened at the party. How tragic."

"Yes, a tragedy," Rebecca added. "Is Theresa home? We would like to express our condolences."

Ethan frowned. "Now isn't the best time."

"But Theresa and I are old friends, Ethan. Surely she could use a friend."

Theresa appeared at Ethan's side. "Hello, Mrs. Hotchkiss. Gwen," she said wearily.

"Oh, Theresa, I'm so sorry!" Gwen said, stepping forward and putting her arms around Theresa.

It took every ounce of self-control for Theresa to not push Gwen away. To say that relations between them were strained would be an understatement. Gwen and her mother were constantly trying to find ways to undermine her relationship with Ethan.

Theresa knew very well the hateful things that Gwen said about her and members of her family. For her to show up, feigning sadness over Luis's death was just too much.

After a moment, Gwen stepped away from Theresa and threw her arms around Ethan. "It's so sad," she said as she held onto him.

Theresa looked away from Gwen, disgusted by her display. Her eyes locked with Rebecca's, and Theresa froze. Was that _amusement _she saw in Mrs. Hotchkiss's eyes?

Gently, Ethan took Gwen by the arms and pushed her away. "Thank you for stopping by," he said stiffly.

"Aren't you going to invite us in?" Rebecca asked.

Theresa glared at her. Ethan interceded. "I believe I already mentioned that this is not a good time."

"We understand, don't we, Dear?" Rebecca said looking to her daughter.

Gwen stood, her body reflecting a sense of resignation. It hurt that it seemed as though Ethan couldn't wait to get away from her. As though her touch stung him. "Yes, we do," Gwen replied quietly.

"Goodnight," Theresa said before closing the door. As soon as she did, she turned to Ethan in a huff. "They are vultures! Why couldn't they leave us alone for just one night?"

"I think it's mostly Rebecca's doing," Ethan replied.

"It's Gwen, too," Theresa insisted. "She's just biding her time, Ethan."

He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her tiny body. "There's only you and me, Theresa. Only you and me."

* * *

Everything had changed. With Luis's death came questions, questions, and more questions. Mama was terrified, but I was too naïve and too foolhardy to understand her concerns at first.

Of course, we had other concerns. There were preparations to be made, costs to consider. In a rare display of generosity, Julian Crane offered to pay for Luis's funeral. Mama refused. Fortunately, a special fund had been set up at the police station. It was one less worry.

That didn't alleviate other worries, however. How would we afford to live? We depended on Luis's paycheck to make ends meet.

Ethan offered to help us, but Mama wouldn't hear of it. In fact, she didn't want to work for the Cranes anymore and was insisting that I quit my job, as well. Yet how could I, especially when my paychecks could help the family?

Miguel took a job on the docks and would rise each morning before school to go to it. Each day when he got off from school, he went back to the docks and stayed until dark, loading and unloading shipments.

For all of my mother's protestations that she didn't want to work for the Cranes, she remained. I later discovered it was because she was hoping to find evidence that would link them to Luis's murder—and to Papa's disappearance.

Our home became an unhappy one. However, I had two bright points in my life: my love for Ethan and my new friendship with Genevieve Markham. She invited me to her home some weeks after Luis's death. She told me she'd wanted me to come sooner, but had not wanted to intrude on my family in our time of grief.

Per her request, I took some preliminary sketches I'd done in my spare time. Apparently, she'd been impressed with some of the gowns she'd seen my wearing. When she'd mentioned it to Ethan, he'd proudly told her that I had been the designer. I guess that peaked her curiosity.

From the moment I entered her home, Genevieve made me feel welcome. She told me she knew what it was to be an outsider, to endure the snide remarks that people of her social set made. Yet she pointed out that thought she'd once been an outsider, she was an insider now. She said that people would eventually accept Ethan and me as a couple. I remember hoping that she was right.

That first day she bought two designs for a rather substantial price. It was enough for alleviate some of our financial concerns. Miguel wouldn't have to work at the docks anymore. I was so grateful for that. Miguel was becoming a shell of himself, and I missed his vitality.

I could tell that Mama was pleased that something had finally come from my scribbling and daydreaming. It made me feel good to make her proud, even if it was in a small way.

Mama hoped this would be incentive to quit my job. It wasn't. I enjoyed my work with Mrs. Crane, and I loved being near Ethan. How could I give that up?

Mama became increasingly insistent, so fearful was she. I thought she was paranoid at the time, but all of that would change.


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** Obviously I do not own _Passions_. If I did, you can be assured that the show would have been _quite _different.

* * *

**Chapter Seven: "Carelessness"**

**December 1, 2005**

It was a crazy day at work. Shay was in a terrible, terrible mood. As much fun as he is to have around when he's feeling affable, the man knows how to make the rest of us miserable when he's cranky.

The day really started like any other. We had deliveries made, calls coming in, the usual. But when the UPS man showed up at 11:00 with the fabric that Merema ordered, that was when all hell broke loose. I told her to order five hundred yards, and she only ordered fifty. So that did put us in a bind, but Shay was so ugly to her. He went on and on about her carelessness. I finally got to the point when I told him that what was done was done. His yelling was not going to make the other four hundred and fifty yards appear.

In the grand scheme of things, what did it really matter? What Merema did was nothing. Who did it hurt? No one. He just needs to get a better perspective on things.

Yet I have seen carelessness with devastating results, and I've been guilty of it myself.

* * *

**January 23, 2001**

Pilar's eyes widened when she saw her daughter walk into the Crane Mansion. "Theresa, what are you doing here?" she hissed as she pulled Theresa aside.

"My econ class was cancelled. I can't say that I really mind. I've never liked night classes anyway. So I thought I'd come on over and see if Mrs. Crane needed some help with correspondences." She set her purse on one of the tables.

"I thought we talked about this, _mi hija_. Why haven't you quit your job as I instructed?"

"Mama, I'm eighteen years old. I respect the fact that you have concerns, but I am old enough to decide where I want to work. Besides, I like being here."

"What you're really saying is you like being near Ethan."

"Why do you make it sound like a bad thing?" Theresa asked. "Ethan is a good man, and he loves me."

"I don't have time to get into this right now. You must leave at once," Pilar said as she took Theresa's arm and led her to the door.

"But why?" Theresa asked pulling away from her mother and walking back into the living room.

"Mr. Alistair is here," Pilar said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Theresa's eyes widened. She'd heard so much about Ethan's grandfather but had never seen him. "Oh, but I want to meet him!"

"That's not such a good idea," Pilar replied. "Too much is going on."

"But Ethan and I are going to get married someday. I _want_ to meet Ethan's grandfather."

"You and Ethan will not be getting married, Theresa. The sooner you realize that, the better. Oh, he may love you, but it takes more than love to make a marriage work."

Theresa looked at her mother in exasperation, frustration spilling over. "What is wrong with you? You walk around here like you're walking on eggshells, and you keep telling me that Ethan and I can't be together. Why Mama? Why?"

"There are things you do not know," Pilar began but stopped.

"I know that I love Ethan. It doesn't matter to me what his last name is or who his father is. I love _him_!"

"What did you mean by that, Theresa?" Gwen asked coming into the room. Her gaze seemed to indicate a cool disinterest, but there was something in her voice that made Theresa uneasy.

"Hi Gwen. What are you doing here?"

Gwen frowned. Theresa had a lot of nerve. She was an upstart, reaching above her station, and she had the nerve to play queen of the manor? Unbelievable!

"Alistair is in town. I was invited to a family dinner. I am still family, you know. Now that I've answered your question, you can answer mine. What did you mean when you said it didn't matter what Ethan's last name is or who his father is?"

Theresa took a deep breath. "I just meant that I love Ethan for who he is."

"Really? Because it sounded remarkably like you were implying something else," Gwen pointed out.

"Then perhaps you need to get your hearing checked," Theresa shot back.

Gwen laughed lightly. "There's no need to get defensive. After all, if you have nothing to hide…."

"Miss Gwen, could I get you something to drink?" Pilar asked, hoping to put an end to the conversation.

"Yes, Pilar. A club soda would be wonderful," Gwen replied, never taking her eyes off of Theresa. "It will give Theresa and me a chance to talk."

Pilar looked at her daughter, worry etching her features. Theresa met her mother's gaze and nodded slightly trying to indicate that she would be fine.

With obvious hesitation, Pilar left the room.

Theresa turned back to Gwen. "You mentioned that you were here for dinner?"

"Yes," Gwen replied. "I would have thought you would know about it. I mean, that is why you're here, isn't it?"

"Actually, one of my classes was cancelled, so I thought I would help Mrs. Crane with some correspondences."

Gwen's eyes widened. "You mean you weren't invited?"

Her words stung, but Theresa tried not to show it. "I'm sure Ethan just thought I would be in class. That's all."

"Or else Alistair didn't want to include you," Gwen remarked casually. "He was terribly upset after Ethan called off the engagement."

"What are you after, Gwen?"

Gwen looked at her innocently. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about."

"No, of course not .You never do."

Gwen merely raised an eyebrow.

"I'm going upstairs to see if Mrs. Crane needs any help," Theresa announced.

She walked back to the table to grab her purse, but in her haste, she knocked it over. With its contents spilled, Theresa silently cursed and knelt down to retrieve the items.

"Let me help you," Gwen offered as she knelt next to Theresa.

"That's alright. I have everything," Theresa said grabbing her hairbrush, checkbook, and a lipstick.

Gwen grabbed a pink, plastic, circular container. "Not quite everything. You wouldn't want to forget your birth control pills."

Theresa's eyes widened. She knew what Gwen was thinking, and she wasn't sure why it bothered her, but it did.

"You don't have to be embarrassed. I, better than anyone else, know what a voracious appetite Ethan has in bed," Gwen replied.

"This is not a conversation I want to have with you," Theresa replied coolly.

"I'm not trying to make you uncomfortable. I just think it's a good thing that you're taking control of your body. It's important that we, as woman, have choices. Just make sure you don't forget to take them each night. I remember one weekend Ethan and I went away to the cabin. Foolishly, I forgot my pills." She laughed to herself. "Ethan kept having to go back to the convenience store for condoms. God, we must've gone through three boxes."

Gwen watched for a reaction from Theresa. The bait had been set, but would she bite?

Theresa felt her stomach turn. She and Ethan had never been together in that way, but to hear Gwen talk about sleeping with the man she loved…the man she planned to marry…was very difficult.

"As I said before, this is not something I want to discuss with you."

Pilar returned and upon seeing the two women kneeling on the floor, she became concerned. "What is going on here?"

"Nothing much," Gwen replied as she stood. "Theresa just dropped her purse, and I was helping her to collect her things. Here are your birth control pills, Theresa," she added as she handed Theresa the pink package.

Theresa thought her heart was going to stop. She glared at Gwen, seeing the satisfaction on her face.

Pilar dropped the tray she was carrying, spilling the club soda she'd brought out for Gwen.

"I think I'll just go get a towel," Gwen offered.

Pilar waited until Gwen exited before looking at her daughter. Theresa cringed when she saw the disappointment written over her mother's features.

"Mama, it's not what you think," Theresa began.

"I don't want to hear your lies, Theresa. You're much too comfortable with them, but I am not. How long has this been going on? How long have you and Ethan been sleeping together?"

"Mama, Ethan and I have not made love. We're waiting until we're married," Theresa replied.

"Then why the birth control pills? Why do you have them? You know how the Church frowns upon them."

Theresa's voice dropped. "I didn't want to worry you, but my periods were irregular. When I went for my last check-up, I told Dr. Clark, and she thought this would be a way to regulate them."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Because I knew how you would react. You already have so much on your plate. Mama, I love Ethan with all my heart. And yes, we've been tempted, but I want the type of relationship you had with Papa. One that is pure and honest and good. Ethan has been a perfect gentleman."

"You do realize that any relationship you have with Ethan can be none of those things, don't you Theresa? You cannot be honest with him. The truth would destroy us all."

"You're talking about the papers I found," Theresa said.

"I told you to never mention those papers again. Forget what you saw, Theresa!"

"How can I when they're in our living room closet? Mama, those papers could change everything! If the Cranes are terrible, if they did something to Papa or to Luis as you seem to think, those papers would free Ethan from them. Then he and I could be together!"

Pilar shook her head. "Is that all you can think about? That if the contents of those papers were revealed you could be with Ethan?" she asked, incredulity in her voice. "How is it possible that I have such a selfish daughter?"

"And how is it possible that I have such a paranoid mother?" As soon as the words escaped her lips, Theresa wished she could take them back. The look of hurt on her mother's face made her heart sink.

"You've never spoken to me like that," Pilar said quietly as she turned away from her daughter.

"I'm sorry, Mama. I didn't mean it."

"No, Theresa, I think you did."

Theresa reached out and took her mother's hand. "I just worry about you. Seeing you here, knowing what you're doing…it worries me. And it's hard to watch, Mama. It's hard. You speak in riddles, telling me that Ethan and I shouldn't be together, but you know how much I love him. If it's selfish of me to want to be with him, then I'm selfish, but I'm not so selfish that I don't see you wasting away before my eyes."

"With Luis gone…" Pilar's voice trailed off.

Theresa embraced her mother. "I know, Mama. It hurts. But grasping at straws, trying to place blame on people who had nothing to do with it, isn't right."

Pilar pulled away from Theresa and touched her face. "You must listen to me, _mi hija_. You have always been such a dreamer, but there are people out there who will try to hurt you. That is why I want you away from this house. You already know more than you should."

"But I have already promised you that I won't tell Ethan anything about those papers, and I meant it. I still can't help but wonder, though…"

"No Theresa. That's enough. You had no business getting into them in the first place. Do not make it worse."

Gwen stood listening to the conversation between Theresa and Pilar. It was obvious they didn't know she was back in the room.

She wondered if Theresa was telling the truth about the birth control pills. To think that she and Ethan hadn't consummated their relationship--well, it was the best news she'd heard all day!

Yet something else held her attention, as well. What were those papers they kept talking about? It had something to do with Ethan, from what she could tell.

Well, there was only one way to find out for certain. She knew they wouldn't answer her question, so a little first-hand investigating wouldn't hurt. When they least expected it….

Walking back into the living room, Gwen gave Pilar the towel.

"Thank you, Miss Gwen," Pilar said quietly as she knelt and cleaned the mess she'd made.

"No problem at all," Gwen replied. "It looked as though the two of you needed to talk."

Theresa bit her tongue. She had a few choice words she wanted to tell Gwen, but it was neither the time nor the place.

"I'm going upstairs," Theresa said.

As Theresa headed up the stairs, she was relieved. Ever since she'd arrived in the house, she'd felt as though she were on a battleground. Things had been so difficult for her mother since Luis died, and she hated to think she was adding to her mother's stress. But couldn't her mother see that her feelings for Ethan weren't going to go away just because she told her they must?

Walking through the hall, she was startled when a door opened and two strong arms pulled her inside a room. The door closed, and she felt herself pushed against it.

Her bewilderment soon turned to happiness as she felt Ethan's lips descend upon hers. For a few brief, wonderful moments, no problems existed. She was with the man she loved more than life itself.

"Mmm," she murmured between kisses. "You are just what the doctor ordered."

"Rough day?" he asked placing tiny kisses across her jawline.

"Yeah, but this is making up for it," she said as she lightly ran her fingers up and down the back of his neck.

He put his hands on her tiny waist and pulled her away from the door. Holding her close, he stroked her hair, taking in her scent. "I'm so glad to see you.. This was a nice surprise."

"I got out of class early," she said as she rested her head against his chest. Simple things, like hearing his heartbeat, had the power to take away all doubt.

"Lucky me," he said before kissing her again. "I wish you didn't have to go all the way to Castleton."

"It's not that bad. Whit and I commute together, so I'm not lacking for company. Besides, I've met some really nice people in my classes."

"You have perfect timing. Grandfather is here. He showed unexpectedly."

"I know."

"You do? How?"

She sighed. "I saw Gwen downstairs. She said something about a family dinner that she'd been invited to attend."

"I'm sorry about that, Resa. Grandfather always has had a soft spot for her, though."

"I have tried to like her, Ethan. I really have, but I just don't. I just get this feeling that she's watching me, waiting to trip me up, or better yet, looking for ways to trip me up."

"Sweetie, you know I love you—and only you."

"This isn't just about jealousy, Ethan! There's more to it. I—I dropped my purse, and everything just went flying out. She saw my pills, and my mother came in, and she couldn't wait to show Mama."

"Oh no," Ethan groaned.

"Mama didn't handle it very well. She assumed—well, you know what she assumed. She'll probably ask you about it. I'm really sorry."

He kissed the top of her head. "Don't worry. I can handle myself. I just wish you didn't have to deal with what surely must have been Pilar's reaction."

"Ethan, there's a part of me that wishes…" her voice trailed off.

"That wishes what?"

"That Mama's assumptions were right. That you and I had been making love."

He chuckled. "Believe me, sometimes I wish it, too. When I'm close to you like this, sometimes I think that I'm going to go crazy from not making love to you."

"Do you—I can't believe I'm asking this—but do you ever miss it? I mean, do you miss being with someone who will…_you know_."

Ethan frowned. "Theresa, what did Gwen say to you?"

"I asked you the question first, Ethan."

"I'm a man, Theresa, so sure. I think about it, but I don't want to be with Gwen. I want to be with you. Only you."

"It's just that the two of you have this long history together, Ethan. Every time I see her, she makes certain to remind me of that fact."

"I'll talk with her, Resa. I've tried to be nice to her and accept that I'll see her here from time to time because she's Sheridan's friend, but this is getting to be too much. She's here way too much."

Theresa sighed. "I hate being like this. Insecure, I mean. But I just feel like everyone is pulling at us. Why can't they be happy for us?"

"My family isn't exactly like other families, and neither is yours," he pointed out.

She turned away from him. "I just worry. Mama has changed so much. She looks for conspiracies everywhere. Even when she's at home, she's jumpy."

"This hasn't been the easiest time for her, Theresa. Just give her some time."

"Time," Theresa replied numbly. "Maybe this is selfish of me, but I'm tired of working around everyone else's time. I love you so much, and I want to be your wife. I don't care what Mama says. Ethan, I want to marry you."

"I want to marry you, too, but it's important that we do this the right way, Resa. I have a lot of respect for your mother."

"But she's wrong, Ethan. She's wrong! I know she thinks she's protecting me, but she's hurting me—hurting us—and she can't even see it!"

He rested his hands on her shoulders. "Protecting us? From what?"

Theresa nervously bit her lip. Should she tell him her mother's suspicions?

"Just from family stuff, I suppose," she hedged.

"But she knows that Father and Grandfather have said they will accept you."

"Well, they say it, Ethan, but you and I both know that they would rather that you were with someone else—namely Gwen."

Ethan took her hand in his. "I have an idea. Come downstairs with me. Grandfather is with Father in his study. I'll officially introduce you to him, and he'll see what I see. A wonderful, amazing, beautiful, intelligent, kind young woman."

"Ethan, I'm not so sure…"

"No doubts, Theresa. He's going to love you!"

Ethan put his arm around her waist, and the two walked down the back staircase. Ambling through the long hall leading toward the study, Theresa became increasingly nervous.

"Wait Ethan," she said grabbing his arm. "How do I look?"

"Perfect, Resa. Just perfect," he replied with a smile.

They approached the door to the study, but stopped when they heard a loud, angry voice.

"Julian, clean up this mess! It's bad enough that evidence linking us to Martin Fitzgerald keeps showing up like a bad penny and we had to get rid of his son, but for Ethan, the Crane heir, to be considering marriage to that Lopez-Fitzgerald girl….it's unconscionable!"

She looked to Ethan. Surely there was some mistake. Yes, it was a joke. It had to be!

But the look of shock and hurt in Ethan's eyes told her otherwise.

Her father and brother were gone because of Ethan's family.


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:**

Obviously I do not own _Passions_. If I did, you can be assured that the show would have been _quite _different.

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**Chapter Eight: "In an Instant"**

**December 1, 2005**

We spend hours in front of the television, the time melting away. We tap our feet impatiently as we wait for our dinners to come out of the microwave. A pot simmering on the stove is watched carefully until it boils, often seeming as though it's taking forever.

We take our time for granted, spend time doing things that don't really matter, and we lose sight of just how much can change in an instant.

Looking back at my own life, I am amazed when I consider that so many of the groundbreaking moments and encounters happened over the span of just a few seconds. Some people would say these instants are the "blink and you miss 'em" types of moments. I would have to disagree. Whenever something monumental happens, the repercussions are too great for "blink and miss."

Sometimes I wish that I could've just blinked and missed them. Perhaps then I wouldn't have to live with the knowledge that things could have been different if only I hadn't known this or hadn't known that.

In an instant, complications can come into a person's life—complications that are so extreme, it's either do or die.

It's what you do in these instants that helps to shape what is to come.

**January 23, 2001**

_"Julian, clean up this mess! It's bad enough that evidence linking us to Martin Fitzgerald keeps showing up like a bad penny and we had to get rid of his son, but for Ethan, the Crane heir, to be considering marriage to that Lopez-Fitzgerald girl…it's unconscionable!" _

"Papa….Luis…" Theresa choked out. She leaned against the wall, a sob forming in her throat. She felt as though she couldn't breathe. Everything was crashing around her. _Everything._

_"What do you suggest, Father?" Julian asked._

_"We've already tried to drive wedges between Ethan and his little tramp. Perhaps if we were to arrange for an accident to befall her."_

_"Father, whether we like it or not, Ethan does love Theresa. This would destroy him."_

_"Oh, posh. What has you so sentimental Julian? Since when has love mattered? This is business. Ethan will get over it just as soon as another little hot tomale comes along."_

"I don't believe this! My own father and grandfather…" Ethan's voice trailed off. "No, this isn't right. I'm going to talk to them. There has to be a mistake!"

Theresa grabbed his arm. "Ethan, don't!"

"Why not?"

"You heard the same thing I heard, the same thing that my mother has suspected all along. You wanted to know why she was jumpy? This was why!"

"We must have misunderstood. There has to be some kind of explanation!"

Theresa's heart broke for Ethan. He wanted so desperately to cling to some glimmer of hope that they were wrong, but she couldn't let him go on. "An explanation for murder? They have lied for so long—_so long_—do you honestly think they would tell you the truth?"

_"Julian, did you hear something?" Alistair demanded._

_"No, Father. It's probably just one of the maids."_

_"Check and see. We can't afford to let anyone eavesdrop."_

Ethan's eyes widened. Their words—their suspicions—were a clear indication to him there was no mistake.

He grabbed Theresa's hand and pulled her into the nearby coat closet. They heard the door to the study open, footsteps, a pause, and then the door to the study close again.

After a moment, Ethan opened the door to the closet, looked around, and saw no one. They stepped out, and quietly, slowly, Ethan closed the closet door. His fists were clenched. "So help me God, there's about to be another murder in this house. I won't let them touch you!" he hissed angrily.

"No, Ethan. No. Let's just go for a drive," she whispered. "Let's get away from here."

He nodded, and the two hurriedly left the mansion.

They drove in silence. Theresa tried to stare out the window, but the pelting rain obstructed her view. Ethan took his handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her.

Mindlessly, she wiped away the tears that were falling.

His gaze was fixed on the road. He didn't know what to say or what to do. Everything he believed he knew—_everything_—was a lie. All the talk of what it meant to be a Crane, all the talk of upholding the family honor was just that—talk. The father and the brother of the woman he loved more than life itself were dead because of his family. And now Theresa might be the next in line.

Finally gathering his courage, he glanced over at her. She wasn't hysterical; she was amazingly calm as she sat and the quiet tears slid down her cheeks. His own heart felt like it was breaking. For her to have lived with so much uncertainty her entire life, for her to endure the pain of losing the two most important men in her life, it was unimaginable. And now to live with fear…

_And Pilar_.

Ethan swallowed hard. Pilar Lopez-Fitzgerald had been like a second mother to him. She'd spent her entire adult life taking care of the Crane family. For his own father and brother to not only know the truth of Martin Fitzgerald's death, but to be responsible for it, too? It made him sick.

Finally, Ethan pulled off onto an old gravel road. It led to Lookout Point, one of the many secluded areas that overlooked the ocean.

Ethan parked the car and turned off the engine. He knew they were going to have to make some major decisions, and it scared him.

Theresa wasn't safe. Dear God, Theresa wasn't safe. His heart raced at the thought. He couldn't let anything happen to her. He couldn't!

Ethan knew the tone in his grandfather's voice. It was one of determination, and Ethan had always known his grandfather to be calculating. He didn't speak idly; that was part of what made him so successful in the business world. That, and his ruthlessness. If he'd already taken measures against other members of her family, what was to stop him from putting an end to their relationship forcibly?

Ethan knew he could either give his family what they wanted most or take away what they wanted most.

He turned in his seat and looked at her. "What are you thinking?" he asked softly.

"How I wish I would have listened to Luis. Ethan, if I would have helped him rather than turning my back on him…" her voice trailed off.

He reached across the distance between them and gently wiped her tears away. "Nothing you could have done would have changed this, Theresa. It's not your fault."

"But--"

"No buts," he insisted. "You had nothing to do with this. Nothing at all."

"Everything has changed," she said quietly.

"Everything?" he asked. He looked at her, trying to find some hope for them, trying to find faith to cling to. Would she still want to be with him after what they'd found out tonight? Would she still be able to look at him with love in her eyes, knowing that his family was responsible for the disintegration of hers?

She shook her head and reached out to take his hand. "Well, not everything. Ethan, I still love you beyond reason. That could _never_ change."

He gently touched her face. "I love you, too, Resa. I'm not giving up on us."

They were being pulled from so many different directions, but all he wanted to do was cling to her. His lips met hers, and he could feel the desperation in her kisses. It was the same desperation he felt.

Tears stung his eyes. "I'm sorry, Theresa. I didn't know what they'd done. I never imagined them capable of it."

She kissed away one of his tears. "I know, sweetie. It's not your fault. It's not."

"If my father and grandfather are capable of such atrocities, what am I capable of? Surely they weren't always like that. What if I…?"

"No, Ethan!" Theresa said vehemently. "You are nothing like them! You're not!"

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you are wonderful. You are good and decent and…" She hesitated. Should she tell him?

"All my life, I've always taken so much pride in knowing where I come from, knowing that my family is respected. But now…God, I don't know if I could take another surprise."

She bit her lip. If only he knew he weren't a Crane! But what would happen to him if the truth were to come out? How would he feel then? And what would Alistair do?

"What are we going to do, Ethan?"

He leaned his head against the seat and sighed. "I'm going to do what I have to do to keep you safe. What does my grandfather cherish most in the world?"

"Power."

He nodded. "'Why man, he doth bestride the narrow world like a Colossus, and we petty men peep about to find ourselves dishonorable graves. Men at some time are masters of their fates.'" He took a deep breath. "I'm taking away his power over me, starting now. I am going to be the master of my own fate."

"But how?"

"Alistair thinks he can control my life because I'm the Crane heir, but I'm cutting him from my life—him and Father. They need someone who will follow what they say, someone who will do anything they ask without question. Once they see that I'm not that person, they'll turn their attention elsewhere."

Theresa's eyes filled with tears. "Ethan, what you're talking about doing…"

"I'm talking about securing our freedom, Resa. Yours and mine."

"They aren't going to let you go. They aren't!"

"They won't have a choice," Ethan insisted. "I want to do this. I _have_ to do this."

"You know I'll support you in whatever you decide, but I just want you to be certain."

Ethan squeezed her hand. "I _am_ certain. And that's not the only thing I'm certain about . Theresa, I love you. As I say that, the words don't even seem adequate, but I don't think I can even put into words what I feel for you. When I'm with you, it's as though I have the whole world in the palm of my hands. I didn't even realize it until you came into my life, but I'd only been existing, not living. And the truth of the matter is that I don't want to live another moment without telling you what you mean to me and showing you.

"Theresa, I'm asking you to marry me. I want you to be my wife."

Despite the tumult of emotions she'd bee feeling the last hour, Theresa was overcome with waves of happiness. She wasn't sure whether to laugh or to cry. She did both. "Oh, Ethan. Yes! Yes! I will marry you!"

She showered him with kisses.

He smoothed her hair. "You've made me so happy. Once we're married and I'm no longer heir, they won't be able to touch us, Resa. We'll be free."

He saw a flash of hurt in her eyes.

"What? What is it?"

"Ethan, are you only marrying me because you're afraid for me?"

"Goodness, no! I love you, Resa. More than anything. But I would be lying if I didn't tell you that I'm worried for you."

She shook her head, opened the door to his car, and got out. Her actions took him by surprise; he sat momentarily stunned before opening his own door and stepping out.

The rain was coming steadily, but he could see her slight figure walking away quickly. She was angry with him.

"Theresa!" he called after her.

Theresa didn't listen. She continued walking. She wasn't entirely sure where she was going or what she was doing, but she knew she wasn't going to marry someone based on that person's sense of responsibility for her.

Ethan ran after her, gently taking her arms and spinning her around to face him. His hands ran down to her waist, and he pulled her close. Before she could protest, he leaned down and took her lips. Pouring all the desire and love he was feeling for her into the kiss, he knew he was in danger of losing himself. There would never be another for him.

_Only Theresa_.

She didn't want his kiss, but she did at the same time. He made it so hard for her to keep her thoughts and emotions straight. So hard…

She moaned softly as she lifted her arms to wrap them around his neck as he deepened the kiss. She loved him so much, wanted so much to be with him. There would never be another for her.

_Only Ethan_.

When he finally spoke, it was almost as though he could read her mind. Brushing a wet strand of hair from her face, he said, "This isn't about responsibility, Theresa. This is about wanting to spend my life with the woman I love. Please say you'll marry me."

She smiled. "I love you, Ethan, with all of my heart. I can't wait to be your wife."

He wrapped his arms around her and sighed in relief. "Do you trust me, Theresa?"

"With everything that I am."

"Go home, pack a small bag. A change of clothes and things you'll need overnight. Everything else, we can get later."

"What about Mama and Miguel? They'll wonder where I am."

"I hate lying, but they can't know what we're doing until it's already done. If they find out, Alistair and Julian might find out, too. Call Whitney and see if she'll cover for you."

"I suppose I could always say that she and I will be studying late, so I need to stay at her house…" Theresa suggested.

"Sounds good. I'll handle everything else from this end. I'll have to go to the family dinner, put on a show, make some excuses for my whereabouts of the next few days, but then we'll be on our way with no one the wiser."

Theresa ran her hands up his back as she rested her head against his chest. "Ethan, do you think you'll be able to do it? Sitting with them at dinner time isn't going to be easy."

"I can do anything if it means that I have you by my side."

_____

Ethan was true to his word. How he managed to do it, I'll never understand, but he is a strong man. When he went home, his family was immediately curious as to why he was soaking wet. He told them that he'd had a flat tire and fixed it. I can only imagine how Julian must have scoffed at Ethan getting his hands dirty and—heaven forbid—doing something for himself.

He told them of one of his friends from law school who was working on a case and wanted him to consult on it. He would be going away for a few days. Ethan left nothing unattended. Should they need to reach him, they would be able to do so through this man's law office.

Ethan sat next to Gwen during dinner, he later told me, which made old man Alistair very happy.

From what he could tell, they suspected nothing.

I went home, packed lightly, and called Whitney. I know she must have thought I was crazy, but she didn't try to talk me out of it. I was so grateful for that. I still am, actually.

Mama was still at work, so I left a note telling her that I would be with Whitney.

Whitney picked me up and took me to the airport. I met Ethan there, and we made our way to Bermuda. I'd been there once before with him, but this time was very different.

Once our plane landed, we were met at the airport and whisked away to the most beautiful home I'd ever seen. It was a walled estate, built next to the ocean with its own private beach.

I'm not entirely sure how Ethan managed it, but all the necessary paperwork was done. He must have called in all the favors he had.

It was really going to happen. We were going to get married!

I was greeted by an older woman who took me to a room that had the most beautiful dresses imaginable. I was to choose one for my wedding. It was difficult, for they were all spectacular, but I finally made my choice.

The woman, Mariellen, helped me to ready myself. She curled my hair so that it fell in waves down my back. She even placed an orchid behind one of my ears.

When the soft music started and I began walking down the candle-lit garden path, I thought my heart was going to stop. Ethan was waiting for me, looking so incredibly handsome, with a smile on his face.

And so in the garden, amidst flowers and candles, Ethan took my hand in his. Together we turned to the justice of the peace, and we became husband and wife.


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** Obviously _Passions_ does not belong to me. If it did, you can be guaranteed that the characters would've drive the story, rather than story driving the characters. But that's a rant for a different place and time. :)

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**Chapter Nine: "Bliss is Ignorant"**

**December 6, 2005**

Christmas is coming soon, but for some reason, I haven't been able to get into the spirit. Genevieve gets after me; I know she worries, but I can't help it. It's hard to feel happy when I know what true happiness is, and it's now beyond my grasp. Sometimes I think it would be better not to know, but at other times, those wonderful memories sustain me.

One of my happiest memories is the night I became Ethan's wife.

_Theresa Crane. _

When I was a little girl, I always thought it had a nice ring to it. All my dreams, all my fantasies revolved around a fairy tale moment when I would become Mrs. Ethan Crane. I was so silly with the crush I had on Ethan. Yet I came to know the man behind the name, the wonderful man, and I couldn't help but love him.

I still remember how he held my hands in his as we said our vows. I didn't think it was possible to feel so much at once—excitement, hope, trust, anticipation, and all-consuming love. Yet I could see those same feelings I had for him mirrored in his eyes. I remember how he tenderly touched my face before kissing me after we became husband and wife. My heart swelled with joy.

There was no one in the world but us.

**January 23, 2001**

"Mmmm," Theresa sighed as the warm wind coming off the ocean gently blew against her skin. "This feels amazing. You know, this could really spoil a girl and make her not want to go back to face a New England winter."

Ethan stood behind her, his hands spanning her waist. Gently, he pulled her back against him, wrapping his arms around her.

"And this feels even better," she said softly. "I can't believe we did it. I can't believe that we're actually husband and wife."

"Believe it," Ethan murmured into her ear. "You are stuck with me, Mrs. Crane."

"I could think of worse things," she teased.

He rested his chin on the top of her head, reveling in her closeness. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too, Ethan," she said softly, her body melting in his embrace. It was a perfect moment, and it scared her. Every time something wonderful happened, it was always followed by outside interference, lies, and manipulations.

Ethan sensed her pensiveness. "What is it, Resa? Are you thinking about our families?"

"They're going to throw everything they have at us."

"Let them try," he replied protectively. "Nothing and no one is going to keep me away from you. I will always love you--always. Nothing could change that."

"Things aren't going to be easy for us."

He laughed lightly. "Things never have been. Look at the last time we were here together."

"What do you mean?"

"It took me so long to see what has been in front of me all along. Last time we were here, I was fighting it. I kept telling myself that those feelings I had for you had no right to exist. But look at us now. We're in love, we've just been married, the whole world is ahead of us filled with wonderful possibilities."

She turned around and smiled at him. "And we get to greet those wonderful possibilities--together." She took one of his hands in hers and lightly rubbed the back of it with her finger. "I remember the last time vividly. I wanted to be close to you. _So much_. I even dreamed about you."

"You dreamed about me?"

She felt her cheeks grow warm as she remembered the dream of Ethan coming to her room, of herself inviting him into her bed. She'd wondered for so long what it would be like to make love to him, for him to whisper loving words in her ear, to wake up in his arms. Timidly, she nodded.

He stroked her cheek, amused by her embarrassment. "What were you dreaming of?" he asked huskily as he leaned down, their lips only inches apart.

"I dreamed of being as close as two people can be. I dreamed of making love to you, Ethan. Imagine my disappointment that it was just a dream."

He drew in a deep breath. "Mine too."

Knowing that she'd wanted him, too, made him feel feverish. How many nights had he imagined what it would be like to hold her, to feel her move under him, to be planted deep inside of her? Just the thought of being that close to her was enough to arouse him.

"The disappointment ends tonight," she said before wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and pulling him into a kiss.

She parted her lips, allowing his tongue to delve into her mouth, bringing with it sensations that made her want so much more from him. She leaned into him, feeling his hardness against her abdomen. She secretly delighted in the knowledge that he wanted her just as she wanted him.

Overwhelming emotions coursed through her. The happiness, the desire, was almost unbearable.

How she loved Ethan!

She would never let anyone or anything come between them.

She needed him like she needed air.

Ethan moaned quietly as he felt her hips move gently against him. He ran his hands down her back, pulling her closer. Did she have any idea of what she was doing to him?

He couldn't get enough of her--enough of their kisses. He wanted to devour her. She was so responsive, so eager, in his arms. He could feel the hard tips of her breasts pressing against him through the thin material of her wedding gown. He wanted to touch her, to feast on her, to show her that she was his everything.

Overwhelming emotions coursed through him. The happiness, the desire, was almost unbearable.

How he loved Theresa!

He would never let anyone or anything come between them.

He needed her like he needed air.

They continued to kiss, lost in their growing passion until Theresa pulled back. Her heart pounded so quickly! Could he tell? Her lips were swollen from their kisses; her chest heaving. "Ethan, I want to show you how I feel."

Ethan thought his heart was going to stop when he saw the fierce longing in her dark eyes. It mirrored his own desire for her. She wanted to be with him just as badly as he wanted to be with her.

He took her hand in his, lightly kissing each of her fingertips before possessing her mouth again.

Deftly, he picked up her light frame, carrying her across the beach and into the house. Up the stairs he took her before stopping in front of a door. Turning the knob, the door swung open.

Theresa gasped. The room was beautiful. Lit only with candles, it was the large bed in the center of the room that captured her attention. It was covered with rose petals.

He carried her over the threshold and set her down. As soon as her feet hit the floor, she twirled around in glee. "Ethan, this is perfect! How did you manage it?"

He smiled upon seeing her enthusiasm. "A few strings here, a few strings there. I only wish I could have done more."

"But don't you know that you've already given me so much?"

"I just want to shower you with everything, Theresa. I want to give you anything and everything you've ever wanted. I want to show you the world and see things through your eyes."

She took his hands in hers. "Don't you know that I already have everything I want? I have you, and that's all that matters to me. It's all I've ever wanted."

"How did I get so lucky? God, Resa, I never knew that love could be like this. When you walk into a room, I feel like the happiest man alive. When you aren't near me, I feel as though part of me is missing. You're the first thing I think of when I awaken each morning and my last thought each night."

She smiled as she pulled him closer. "And just what do you think of when you go to sleep each night, Mr. Crane?" Her voice was low, hushed, and he thought incredibly sexy.

"What do you think I think of?" he teased as he lightly breathed against her ear. He gently nipped at her ear before tracing achingly slow kisses down her neck.

Her breath caught within her. She loved his touches, his kisses.

"The same thing I've thought of. This night. Being with you," she whispered. "Of course, I can't be entirely sure. Perhaps you should show me."

"And if I were to show you…." He teased as he ran kisses along her jaw.

Theresa sighed and pulled him closer, her heart pounding in her ears. "Then perhaps I could show you some of the things I've been thinking about."

Ethan couldn't believe the feelings she elicited within him. His Resa, his beautiful Resa, wanted him. Had always wanted him.

The desire to join with her was almost overwhelming to his senses. Knowing that she'd wondered about him, dreamed of him, loved him, was enough to make his need for her painfully obvious.

He'd never felt like this before. Never.

"What did you have in mind, Mrs. Crane?" he asked huskily as he felt her fingers bury into his hair at the nape of his neck.

Theresa felt her cheeks redden. She wasn't experienced in the art of seduction and wasn't entirely certain of what to do. She moved against him and could hear his groan and feel the evidence of his desire for her.

"Well….," she began, "I have a lot of learning to do. I was thinking that maybe you could teach me a few things…"

**__**

**Three Days Later**

Theresa's eyes raked over Ethan's body as he stepped into the hot tub on the deck of the house. She was unaccustomed to such luxury; but as she heard the fierce lapping of the ocean waves on the beach just a few hundred feet away, she was starting to think she could get used to being in paradise....just so long as Ethan was with her.

Ethan caught her staring at him as he sank into the water and smiled. "See something you like?"

He watched as her eyelids dropped slightly, looking at him through chocolate colored eyes veiled with long, dark lashes. She was beautiful, so amazingly beautiful with her dark eyes and luxuriously long and thick hair. Her smile had the ability to make him feel feverish on the coldest of days. Her lips were full, soft, and utterly kissable. But more importantly, she was the most amazing woman he'd ever known. She was kind-hearted, honest, and so full of life. She was innocent, naive really, about so many things, but she was also his temptress.

Looking at Ethan, Theresa's heart swelled with love for him. Ethan was everything she'd ever wanted, and she was finally living her fairy tale. She was determined that they would have their happily ever after.

"I more than _like_ what I see," Theresa replied as she focused on his crystal blue eyes, the eyes she intended to look into each morning for the rest of her life.

Ethan gasped when he felt her foot rubbing against his leg and working its way up. "It seems we've formed a mutual admiration society," he said with a wink.

"What do you suggest we do about it, Mr. Crane?"

"Why don't you come a little closer, Mrs. Crane, and I'll show you."

Theresa smiled as she slowly moved toward him. Ethan's heart pounded as he watched her. He knew she was teasing him, and it was driving him crazy. His eyes studied the curves of her body, noting how her naked flesh glistened in the water.

She closed the gap between them and straddled his lap, their lips only inches apart. "Now, what was it you were going to show me?" she asked as she moved ever-so-slightly against him.

Sensations rushed through his body, and he was almost at a loss for words. "My temptress..." he whispered before capturing her lips with his own. He kissed her tenderly at first, taking in the texture and fullness of her lips. Yet when she returned his kiss with a fervency that literally took his breath away, his kisses became more insistent. His tongue swept into her mouth, plundering her, tasting her.

She protested as his mouth moved away from hers, but the protestations were quickly replaced by moans of pleasure as Ethan nibbled on her earlobe before moving down and nuzzling her neck.

He sighed when he felt her rapid pulse and took in the scent of her soft skin. Her heart beat quickly, as did his. It thrilled him to know that he was having as much an effect on her as she was on him.

She buried her fingers in his sandy colored hair. It was as though she just couldn't get close enough to him. "Ethan...."

Ethan kissed a trail to her left breast. His tongue flickered across her hardened nipple before he took her in his mouth and gently sucked. She cried out at the intense pleasure she was feeling, but another feeling began to take hold within her as well: an aching that only he could alleviate.

Feeling his hardness and size against her, she knew he was feeling that same aching. She pulled away from him slightly. He looked at her, his eyes dark with desire. "I need you," he said hoarsely.

"By all means..."

She moved against him, repositioning herself until she felt him against her opening. Surprised but pleased by her boldness, he placed his hands on her hips and pulled her against him until he she had taken him deep.

Some time later, they remained in the hot tub, wrapped in each other's arms enjoying the afterglow of the intense pleasure and closeness they had shared.

"I wish this moment could last forever," Theresa sighed as she wound her slender arms around Ethan's neck and rested her head against his chest.

Ethan ran his fingers up and down her bare back and kissed the top of her head. "Theresa, we're going to have so many wonderful moments, so many wonderful memories. You'll see."

Her eyes clamped shut, wanting to focus only on his touch. But there was so much to think about...so much she didn't _want_ to think about. "I guess I'm just a little scared about going back. These last four days have been paradise...almost like there's no one in the world but us. I love being your wife. I love falling asleep in your arms and waking up next to you. I love laughing with you. But when we return to Harmony, we're going to be walking into the fire."

He nodded, memories flooding his mind of what he and Theresa heard the night they left Harmony. "I've been thinking a lot about what we left behind....and what we'll be going back to."

"That's just it, Ethan. I don't want to go back!" Theresa said emphatically.

"We can't just disappear," he said softly.

"Why not?"

His fingers toyed with a strand of hair that had fallen from the clip she wore. "For starters, there's your mother and Miguel to think about. Pilar has already lost her husband and son. She can't lose you, too. Miguel, either. He needs his sister."

Theresa swallowed hard. Her mother was going to have a difficult time accepting their marriage, but Ethan was right. She could not hurt her mother by never going back. She'd already seen drastic changes in the once vivacious woman. If they were to not go back, it would kill her.

Ethan continued, "And then there's the matter of my family. God, how can they even be called that after what they've done?" He felt sick knowing that the people he'd grown up loving, grown up admiring, could be so cold-blooded. What did that mean for him? Would the time come when he, too, would morph into one of them? Would he take on the not-so-admirable characteristics of the Crane men? No. He would not let that happen. "They would never stop looking for us. No, this cycle needs to end now, and we have to make sure that Alistair and Julian are never able to hurt anyone else again."

Tears filled her eyes. "How do we stop this, Ethan? You said by taking away what they want most, but they killed my father and brother. That can't go unpunished."

"It won't, Theresa. It won't."

His tone held a coldness that Theresa had never heard before. It sent chills down her spine. "It sounds as though you've been thinking about this."

"I have."

Theresa pulled back slightly and looked at her husband, seeing the anger and hurt in his blue eyes. Lightly, she stroked his face, tracing his jaw with her fingertips. "This hurts you, too. I'm so sorry, Ethan. Maybe it would have been better had you never known. Maybe Mama was right. Maybe all of this was a mistake."

"Theresa, knowing the truth can never be a mistake!" Ethan replied resolutely. "Yes, your mother wanted us to stop seeing each other to 'protect' us, but would either of us have been happy with that?"

"No, but..."

"No buts. When it comes down to it, my grandfather and father would have tried another method to control me, even if you'd not been in the picture. It would have been something else."

"But if I weren't in the picture, you would be married to Gwen now. They _know _that, and it's something they've wanted for so long. It's something they _still_ want. They also know that she's circling us like a buzzard just waiting for you to get tired of me and toss me aside. She's counting the days, and if she can expedite the process, you better believe she's going to try!"

"Theresa, that will never happen. Besides, Gwen isn't like that."

"Isn't she, Ethan? You don't know her the way I do."

Ethan couldn't help but laugh lightly at his wife's words, but it was an uneasy laugh. "Theresa, I've known her practically my entire life."

"But you've only seen the side of her that she wants you to see, Ethan. It's almost like she's two different people. On one hand, she can be very kind, caring, sweet even. Then she can turn around and say and do the most terrible things."

"Once she finds out that we're married, she'll respect that, Resa."

"I know you honestly believe that, but I know better. I'm almost as afraid of what she'll do as I am of what your family will do."

"When I'm done, no one will be able to touch us, my love."

"What _are_ you going to do, Ethan?"

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes, but...."

"The less you know on the outset, the better."

"Ethan, this scares me. I don't want you getting pulled in further or sinking to their level. I just--I just love you so much, and if something were to happen to you, I don't know what I would do."

He touched her face gently. "Nothing bad is going to happen to me, Resa, or to us. We're going to be together for the rest of our lives. We're going to have children, grandchildren, and great-grandchildren. I'm going to show you the world, and we're going to have so many firsts together. I am going to love you always."

"Even when I'm old and wrinkly?"

He smiled. "I'll be old and wrinkly right along with you."

"Even when we fight, and I make you very angry?"

"Then we can always look forward to making up," he replied with a gentle kiss.

She paused for a minute, a small smile forming on her lips.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

Her fingertips traced the contours of his cheeks. "Well....." she began, "I was wondering what I could do to make you angry....so that we could make up."

He smiled before brushing his lips lightly against hers. She lightly sucked on his bottom lip, and she heard him groan in satisfaction.

Their passion for one another grew, and for a few brief, beautiful moments, all was forgotten as they reveled in their love for one another.

____

"Where have you been, Theresita?" Pilar asked, with her arms crossed, as well as a cross expression on her face.

Theresa gulped as she set her bags down. She'd not expected to find her mother waiting for her as she entered the small house. The frigid weather was a stark contrast to the sun and warmth of Bermuda, but the coldness she felt as she closed the door to the outside was not merely a result of winter. Nothing had been right in the Lopez-Fitzgerald house for months.

_Be strong, Theresa_.

Begrudgingly, she'd removed her engagement and wedding rings and would not wear them until everything was settled with Ethan and the Cranes. If word were to get out before his plan was set in motion.....

Theresa forced a smile on her face. She tried to answer lightly. "You know where I was. I'm sorry that I didn't call you, Mama. I've just been so busy with school...."

Frustration spilled from Pilar. "Do not lie to me, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. Dios mio! How did I have such a child who lies as easily as she tells the truth?"

"Mama, please!"

"You were not with Whitney. Where were you?"

"What makes you say I wasn't with Whitney?" Theresa asked, trying to keep her voice even.

"One of your classmates called. Stephen Rutledge, I believe. He was concerned because you had not been in class for several days. He wanted to make certain that nothing was wrong. Naturally, I was concerned as well. Whitney tried to cover for you, which makes me very sad. It's terrible enough for you to lie, but for you to drag your friends into your deception...."

Theresa interrupted. "I was a little under the weather, but what better place to be when I'm sick than at Whitney's? I mean, her mom's a doctor and everything....."

"Yes, you were so under the weather, you managed to get a tan in the middle of winter," Pilar noted.

Theresa hands flew up to her face. "Dear Lord." She'd not even considered the tan she had acquired under the hot island sun.

"Shall I continue? Would you care to explain Ethan's absence on a sudden legal case that happened to coincide with your lack of availability? Or the tan line on your left ring finger?"

Theresa felt a sinking in the pit of her stomach. It was not supposed to happen like this! Ethan was going to come over, and they were going to tell her mother about their marriage together---after everything was settled with his family.

"Mama, I--"

Pilar's hands cut through the air. "Enough, Theresa! Enough!"

Theresa's eyes burned with tears.

Pilar looked at her daughter, anger and hurt burning with in. "Tears are not going to make this go away, mi hija. What have you and Ethan done?"

"We wanted to tell you together, after everything was taken care of."

"El dios nos ayuda todo," Pilar muttered. "After everything I told you, you disregarded my warnings and foolishly married Ethan anyway."

Theresa felt her own hurt and anger surge. "I _love_ Ethan. No amount of warnings can change that fact. And he _loves_ me! We married each other, not out of a sense of foolishness, but because we _love _each other."

"Then why, Theresa, did you try to sneak in here, lying about your whereabouts as well as your new marriage?"

"There is more going on, Mama. Please, come and sit with me. Let's talk about this calmly. I will make you some tea, and we'll get everything straightened out," she said as soothingly as her frayed nerves would allow.

"I do not want your tea, Theresa. I want the truth."

Theresa nodded. She walked to the sofa in the living room, lightly patted the cushion next to her, and waited until her mother sat.

Theresa turned sideways and took her mother's hands in her own. "Five nights ago, I got out of class early. Do you remember?"

Pilar nodded. She remembered all too well, for she'd instructed Theresa to go home, and her head-strong child would not listen to her. "Yes, and you showed up at the Crane Mansion. Mr. Alistair was there that night."

Theresa continued. "Yes, he was. I--I went up to see Ethan, and he was so eager for me to meet his grandfather. We went to the study, but we stopped in the hall when we heard voices because they sounded so angry. Alistair and Julian were arguing, and we heard Alistair say the most terrible things. So that made Ethan and me realize that it was crazy for us to wait to get married. We left for Bermuda that night, and we married in a small ceremony. We love each other so much, Mama, and we are happy."

"Back up a moment," Pilar instructed. "Just what 'terrible things' did you and Ethan hear as you eavesdropped?"

"That's not important right now, Mama. Ethan is taking care of everything."

"Digame, Theresa. What did they say?" Pilar demanded.

Theresa hesitated. How much should she tell her mother? Nothing? Everything? Bits and pieces? "I'd rather wait until Ethan gets here, Mama."

"I didn't ask what you would rather do. You are my daughter, and I am still your mother. I asked you a question, and I expect you to answer it."

Mother and daughter's eyes met. Theresa swallowed hard. She couldn't tell her mother everything, not yet. Not until she knew everything was going to be alright; not until she knew her family was going to be safe.

"They were just very unhappy that Ethan broke off his engagement to Gwen. They spoke of measures they planned to take to insure that Ethan married Gwen."

"But the engagement ended so long ago," Pilar said.

"Yes, I know. It was terribly shocking when we heard the conversation."

"And what does Ethan intend to do? He would no sooner turn on his own kind than he would continue this marriage. Oh, it's very romantic, I suppose, in a young man's mind to go against his family's wishes, but in the light of day...."

Theresa jerked her hands away from her mother. "Ethan did not marry me on some misguided romantic notion. This is the real thing, Mama."

"Then he married you so you would sleep with him."

"You know Ethan is not like that!"

Pilar sighed. "Either way, he will grow tired of his family's disapproval, and he will return to what he knows."

"Ethan will never be part of that family again, Mama," Theresa said vehemently.

Pilar's eyebrows shot up. "What aren't you telling me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Theresa replied turning away.

Pilar touched her daughter's shoulder and forced her around. "You do know what I'm talking about. Why are you being so evasive? What more could there be? What more...." her voice trailed off, realization dawning on her. "Martin.....Luis. This isn't just about you, Theresa. This is about your father and brother!"

"Mama..."

Pilar placed her hands on Theresa's shoulders. "Tell me what you know!"

"I can't!"

"You must! How many years have I wondered about my Martin? How many years, Theresa? And now your brother is gone, the person who shot him going uncaught. It was planned perfectly, Theresa. Too perfectly. Now, tell me what you know!"

"I can't say anymore right now. It's not safe, Mama."

Theresa pulled away from Pilar, her mother's raw emotions mirroring her own. As much as she had tried to push down the agony of knowing that her father and brother died at someone else's hands, the pain kept manifesting itself. Yet she'd had more time to process the information than her mother.

Pilar shook her head. "What have you done, Theresa?" she cried out. "What have you done? You've made matters ten times worse! Oh God! My Martin! My nino!"

Sobs wracked Pilar's body, and Theresa held her mother as grief poured from her. It was a long time before she regained her composure. With red, swollen eyes, she looked at Theresa. "Prepare yourself, mi hija. Ethan will not be able to withstand the pull of Alistair and Julian. The Cranes are very....persuasive. He has lived in their world all his life. He will not give that up."

Theresa's mind flashed back to the papers she'd seen in Mrs. Crane's attaché case the night her curiosity got the better of her. "Ethan is _not_ a Crane!"

"Silencio! You must never speak those words again!"

"Ethan deserves to know the truth, Mama. Especially now."

Theresa remembered how hurt Ethan had been at discovering the truth about the Cranes. It had made him question himself in so many ways. It had even made him wonder if he was capable of such atrocities.

Pilar looked squarely at her daughter. "Theresita, this deception is what is keeping Ethan safe now that he knows the truth about Martin...about Luis. Alistair will not turn on his own, but if word were to get out that Ethan is really a Bennett, it would spell disaster for all."

_____

Gwen Hotchkiss opened a large manila envelope, anticipation nearly overwhelming her. She smiled thinking of how its contents held the key to her future.

Pulling out the 8x10 photographs, she was relieved to find out that her efforts were not in vain. Photographed copies of Ethan's birth certificate, a letter from Ivy to Sam Bennett, and other odds and ends that might provide some usefulness were now in her possession.

It was not difficult to let herself into the Lopez-Fitzgerald home and snap photos of the documents from Ivy Crane's attaché case. As the mother of a police officer, Gwen would have thought that Pilar would be more fastidious in terms of home security. _On the other hand, _thought Gwen_, what does Pilar have that anyone would want--except for secret documents, of course_.

It had been quite a thrill for her, actually. The most difficult aspect of the whole encounter had been to not boast to her mother about her latest venture. She doubted her mother would have believed her anyway, but now she had the proof she needed. Proof of her escapade, as well as proof of Ethan's paternity.

Yet most deliciously of all, she had exactly what she needed to show Ethan once and for all that Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald was nothing more than a gold-digging tramp. It would be a lesson for all who would strive to reach above their station, but Gwen would glean personal satisfaction from seeing Theresa fall flat on her face.

Gwen picked up a framed photograph of Ethan that she kept on her desk, studying her former fiancé's smiling features.

_It'll be hard for him at first, but one must break a few eggs to make an omelet. I guarantee that he'll be thanking me in the long-run_. _Theresa's lies will have devastated him, and I'll be there to pick up the pieces. _

_Besides, ignorance is not bliss. _

_No, this kind of bliss is just ignorant._


	11. Chapter 10

**Author's Note:** I originally wrote this story in 2001 and am now archiving it here. It's classic E/T, so when you imagine Ethan, imagine Travis Schuldt in the role.

Obviously, I do not own the characters. I am merely playing the role of puppeteer.

* * *

**Chapter Ten: Deal with the Devil**

"Ethan, you're back!" Ivy said with a smile as she saw her oldest son walk into the foyer of the Crane Mansion.

"Mother," Ethan greeted with a kiss on her cheek.

Ivy pulled back from him. "I'd expected you home sooner. God knows this place is a living hell when you aren't around. Your plane landed about three hours ago, didn't it?"

Ethan nodded. "I've been away from the office for several days now, so I wanted to stop by there first," he replied indicating the briefcase he carried in his right hand.

"You are such a hard worker...unlike Julian," Ivy said, her voice changing from pride in her son to disdain as she spoke of her husband. "It was no surprise to me that Alistair chose to make you his heir in lieu of your father. Just don't let yourself be too influence by him, Ethan. Don't lose your goodness."

"I have no intention of losing anything to Alistair or Julian," Ethan replied, determination filling his voice.

Ivy raised her eyebrow slightly. He'd not heard Ethan speak so harshly of his family before. She lifted her hand to his forehead. "Are you feeling alright? Do you have a cold? Your nose does look a little pink, as though it might be stuffy."

Ethan pulled away from his mother and gingerly touched his nose, feeling the slight sunburn. Unlike Theresa, who tanned after being outside for a mere five minutes, Ethan was more susceptible to burning. "I'm fine, Mother. Are my father and grandfather still here?"

Ivy rolled her eyes. "In the study, as far as I know. No doubt they're hatching one diabolical plot or another," she replied flippantly.

Ethan merely stared at her.

"It was meant as a joke, Ethan. Really, are you sure you're feeling well?"

"I'm feeling better than I've felt in a long time, Mother." He set down the briefcase and took her hands in his. "Things are about to change around here, but please know that I love you--that I will always love you."

"Ethan, what is..."

But Ethan did not reply. He retrieved his briefcase and made his way down the hall toward the study.

* * *

Ethan stood outside the entrance to his father's study. He could hear Julian and Alistair's voices within.

Everything he needed to do had seemed so clear as he and Theresa were returning from Bermuda, but now as he stood facing the inevitable--facing his destiny--he was overcome with a realization of the gravity of the situation and the task before him.

_Be strong_, his mind screamed.

With newfound temerity, Ethan swung open the door of the study without knocking. Both Julian and Alistair's heads turned at his invasion.

"Perhaps you should try knocking next time, Son," Julian reprimanded.

"Oh, but you have no secrets from me, Father. Do you?" Ethan's blue eyes met his father's brown ones. Ethan saw something in them that he'd never noticed before: a true, abiding fear.

Julian chuckled nervously. "My life's an open book."

"Is it?" Ethan replied, his voice harsh.

Alistair looked at his grandson, pride swelling through him. Yes, he for all his childish protestations of the virtues of being a noble person, he was turning into a true Crane. Before long, he would take Ethan under his wings and teach him the things he'd been unable to instill in Julian. "Well, Ethan, you certainly seem to have a revived spirit. I trust your trip was invigorating."

"More than you could imagine," Ethan replied his mind momentarily drifting to his bride. "But you'll hear more about my trip soon. I wanted to address another matter entirely."

"And what would that be?" Julian asked.

Ethan casually leaned against Julian's enormous desk. "I'm curious about a man you had in your employ several years ago."

"And who would that be?" Julian asked as he took a swig of brandy.

"Martin Fitzgerald," Ethan replied crisply.

Julian choked on his brandy as he heard Ethan speak those words. Alistair merely kept his gaze upon his grandson.

"Aren't you going to say something?" Ethan demanded.

Alistair's steely gray eyes surveyed Ethan carefully. "What would you have me say, Ethan? Martin Fitzgerald is of no consequence."

"No consequence?" Ethan repeated. "I find it hard to believe that you would go to such lengths to keep the circumstances surrounding his disappearance a secret if Martin Fitzgerald is, as you say, 'of no consequence.'"

Alistair's fists clenched. "You will watch the tone you take with me, Ethan."

"Or what, Grandfather? You will belittle me the way you have belittled my father all these years? Or better yet--you will disown me? Or will you pull out the big guns--literally--and take care of this problem as you took care of the 'Luis problem'?"

Alistair's hands swept across Julian's desk, knocking everything from the desktop. "Dammit to hell, Ethan!"

Ethan squared his shoulders. "You're losing your touch, Grandfather. I never thought I would see the day in which you would not maintain control---or at least the illusion of control."

Though angered, Alistair could not help but chuckle at Ethan's words. He lifted his hands slowly and began to clap. "Bravo, Ethan. Bravo. You are a true Crane, after all."

"I am nothing like you," Ethan hissed.

"Oh, you will be. You will be," Alistair replied.

"So where do we go from here?" Julian asked.

"That's simple. Both of you are going to listen--and listen carefully. Upon my return to Harmony, I found myself strangely drawn to the family vault." He held up his access card for effect. He then set his briefcase on the table, opened it, and removed a file folder. "One of the first things you told me, Father, when I began working at Crane Industries was to never leave a paper trail that leads back to things that are best kept quiet. It seems you and Grandfather broke your own rule."

Alistair took the folder from Ethan, his keen eyes scanning its contents. "This proves nothing. It's all circumstantial. That, my boy, should have been the first thing that you learned in law school."

"Perhaps it is, perhaps it isn't. Of course, you assume that all my cards are on the table."

"Don't play coy with me, Ethan. In a court of law, none of this would ever hold up."

Ethan took the file from him. "This....perhaps not. But what about a court of public opinion? Scandals have a tendency to affect business. Isn't that what you told me when I called off my engagement to Gwen? I'm fairly certain that there's enough here to keep people talking for a long time, as well as enough to launch a probe into your connection with Martin Fitzgerald and Luis Lopez-Fitzgerald's deaths. Circumstantial? Perhaps? But you and I both know that Crane Industries cannot afford a legal circus."

Alistair looked to Julian. "Look what your incompetence has done!"

"My incompetence?" Julian huffed.

"Yes, your incompetence," Alistair repeated before refocusing his attention on Ethan. "Do you truly understand what you're saying and what you're doing? You may be family, but I give you my greatest assurance that you do not want to take me on, little boy."

"Oh, I understand perfectly."

Alistair's eyes narrowed before turning away from Ethan. Perhaps a different tactic was in order.....

"I've given my entire life to this company! I've eaten, slept, and breathed it. And all of it--_all of it_--has been worth the sacrifice because I knew that I would have a legacy to pass on to my heirs...to pass on to you, Ethan. How can you break an old man's heart?"

"You don't have a heart!" Ethan shouted. "The bottom line has always been power for you, Grandfather. You yell and see how high my father and others will jump. You pull strings to watch people act according to your whims. You destroy people's lives, giving no more of a thought to them than you would at swatting a fly. So this latest manipulation is not going to work."

Alistair faced his grandson once again. "How have I manipulated you, Ethan?"

"Does your feigned approval over my relationship with Theresa ring a bell? And what was it for? All so that you could lull us into a false sense of security until an 'unfortunate accident' befell her? You disgust me!"

"Father and I intended no such thing," Julian protested. "We've grown quite fond of Theresa."

"Do. Not. Lie. To. Me," Ethan hissed. "Theresa and I stood outside this very room five nights ago. We heard the words that came from your mouths as you plotted her death and admitted to the murder of her father and brother. You would kill her for the sake of your damn merger?"

"This merger will go through, Ethan," Alistair insisted. "You _will_ marry Gwen Hotchkiss! It is your duty to this family and to this company!"

"You're wrong on a number of fronts, Grandfather. First of all, I will not marry Gwen. Not only do I not love her, but I already have a wife."

"Wh-what did you say?"

"That's right," Ethan replied. "The business trip was actually an elopement and honeymoon. Theresa is my wife, and there is nothing you can do about it."

"Like bloody hell!" Alistair boomed. "You are the Crane heir!"

"Which brings me to my second point. I'm no longer the Crane heir. In fact, you no longer have the rights to any aspect of my life. I am leaving Crane Industries, as well as the family. You are no longer my grandfather." He turned to Julian. "And you are no longer my father."

Julian's face fell. "Ethan...."

"Save it, Julian," Alistair barked. "Now you listen here, Ethan..."

"_No._ You listen," Ethan replied. "You will stay away from Theresa and her family. You will also stay away from me. If anything happens to my wife, not only will these documents make their appearance at FBI headquarters from about five different sources, but I will hunt you down and kill you myself.

"You've taken so much from many people, causing unspeakable pain. Now it's your turn to make reparation."

"Reparation?"

"Yes. Pilar will be given the option of receiving anything she wants from the family, no strings attached. If she wants an explanation for your actions, she will get that. If she wants a new life for herself, she will get that. If she wants half of Crane Industries, she will get what she asks for."

"You have no right to make demands, you presumptuous ingrate. Keeping our family on top is what I've striven for my entire life! I will not gladly hand over the keys to the kingdom, so to speak."

"If Pilar asks you to do it, you will," Ethan insisted. "Otherwise, you'll be paying the consequences. This matter is not open to negotiation. Both of you know me well enough to realize that I mean what I say. This is your only option."

With that, Ethan collected his briefcase and made his way out of the study.

* * *

"Ethan, what's going on?" Ivy demanded as she saw her son descend the stairs with suitcases.

She was worried; terribly worried. Ethan had been so cryptic upon his return from his business-trip, and the expression he now wore on his face reminded her of a man who had just been to war.

Ethan set his suitcases near the front door and took his mother's hand. "Come sit with me," he said.

Ivy nervously bit her bottom lip. "You're scaring me," she said.

"I'm fine," Ethan assured her. "Everything is fine..._now_." He led her into the living room, his eyes scanning their surroundings. The realization struck him that it would probably be the last time he would see the inside of the Crane Mansion. This place he had called home would no longer hold that position in his life, but he would make a new home with Theresa. _She_ would be his home.

As Ivy sat on the sofa next to her son, she studied him, looking for any indication of what might have happened. "Ethan, when you came in, you mentioned that things were about to change. What did you mean?"

Ethan took a deep breath. "Mother, I wasn't away on business. I was in Bermuda with Theresa."

"Oh, is that all?" Ivy laughed. "I suppose I understand your choice to keep the matter quiet. Pilar would not have been pleased to know that the two of you went away together."

"There's more to it than that. I made Theresa my wife."

"I'm sorry. I don't think I heard you correctly. Did you just call Theresa your _wife_?"

"Yes. Theresa and I got married five days ago."

"Oh, Ethan, that's wonderful!" Ivy said with a huge smile as she threw her arms around her son.

Ethan exhaled in relief. "You're happy for me, then?"

Ivy touched his face. "All I've ever wanted for you is your happiness, so of course I'm happy! Theresa is a wonderful girl, and anyone who looks at the two of you can see how much in love you are."

"Then you aren't upset?"

"Naturally, I would have preferred to be at my son's wedding, but I'll forgive you this time," Ivy teased. "Where is Theresa? I want to congratulate my new daughter-in-law."

"She's at her mother's house," he said.

"Well, I hope she'll be over later. There is so much to do! Press releases, photo ops, arrangements for a reception.... Naturally, everyone will be talking about this, and I want to make sure they're saying the right things."

He sighed. As much as he loved his mother, he wished she didn't fall into the social trappings that he'd spent most of his adult life trying to escape. "Slow down, Mother. We're not going to turn this into a circus," Ethan replied.

She patted his hand. "I'm sorry. It's just that I am so happy for you! And I really want to support you in this. I imagine that Julian and Alistair are none-too-pleased."

"That's putting it mildly," Ethan said wryly. "But it doesn't matter anymore."

"Surely you realize that there is a possibility that they will fight you with this," Ivy said.

Ethan tensed. "Alistair and Julian have no say in my life anymore."

Ivy's face fell as anger and resentment built in her. "How dare they turn their back on you! This is unconscionable!"

"No, Mother. You don't understand," he replied. "I turned my back on them. I made the choice, and I am no longer part of their family."

"What? Why?" Ivy demanded.

"Let's just say that my reasons were good ones."

"You can't just leave it at that!" Ivy protested.

Ethan stood. A part of him wanted to share all he knew with his mother, but he feared it would only put her in the line of fire, as well. That was not something he was willing to do. "I can, and I will. For your own sake Mother, the less you know, the better."

Ivy's hand flew to her neck, and unconsciously, she began to touch the old locket she wore. "Ethan, I-I don't know what to say. This is unbelievable. No, I take that back. I _do_ know what to say. How could you do this?"

"Mother, I--"

"No, Ethan! No! I have given my entire life to this charade of a marriage so that someday you would inherit all of this. And you turned your back on it?"

"My intentions were honorable, and I stand by my decision," he insisted. "Look, I'll call you soon. I hope you'll understand once you've had some time to let the information sink in."

He kissed her cheek and made his way to the door. Pausing, he took one last look at what he was leaving behind. It wasn't just a life of unmentionable wealth or power. He was leaving behind his childhood memories, his illusions, his naivete, and the people he had once revered.

It was daunting, but it had to be done.

With that last thought, he walked through the door and did not look back again.

Ivy sank on the sofa when she heard the front door close. Tears stung her eyes as hurt, anger, and frustration filled her. Mindlessly, she wiped the tears away and carefully opened the locket she wore. Her eyes focused on the Ethan's baby picture and the small photograph of the man she'd never stopped loving.

"I did it for our son, Sam, and he's thrown it all away. All these years apart, all these years of denying myself what I truly wanted, and it was for nothing!"

* * *

"Damn him!" Alistair hissed. "Forget the Lopez-Fitzgerald girl. It seems that Ethan is the greatest threat to the future of Crane Industries. Our strategy is going to have to change."

Julian squared his shoulders, disbelief surging through him. "Father, he is still my son."

"He's made it perfectly clear that he isn't, Julian. No, Ethan made his choice tonight, and he's going to have to live with it....though not for very long."

"ENOUGH!" Julian yelled.

Alistair was taken by surprise.

"This is my SON we are talking about, my flesh and blood! You will NOT lift a finger against him!"

"Or what, Julian? Are you going to drink me to death? Or better yet, are you going to stun me to death with your not-so-witty barbs? I don't think so."

"I simply meant that Ethan is a Crane. He will come to rethink his decision. How could he do any less? Would you really destroy the future of our family? Lord knows Sheridan certainly isn't worth anything, but Ethan....Ethan is."

Alistair rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "You speak from sentimentality, Julian, but your words do hold a certain ring of truth. Once Ethan's righteous indignation wears off, he will come to see things from our perspective. He's shown himself tonight. It's only a matter of time..."

"So you will leave him be?"

"For now. His blood saves him. How fortunate for Ethan that he is a Crane."


	12. Chapter 11

**Author's Note:** I originally wrote this story in 2001 and am now archiving it here. It's classic E/T, so when you imagine Ethan, imagine Travis Schuldt in the role.

Obviously, I do not own the characters. I am merely playing the role of puppeteer.

**Warnings:** Crude/suggestive language in the latter part of the chapter

* * *

**Chapter Eleven: Aftermath**

**December 9, 2005**

I thought I had outgrown it, but once again, I see how wrong I am. My impulsiveness strikes again.

I sat here last night looking at the words I've written in this journal, remembering so many memories. Everywhere I look, there are memories! From the photographs of Ethan and me which adorn our house, to the furniture in the living room, everything taunts me. Even the wallpaper.

I remember going to the home decorating store shortly after Ethan and I married. Ethan had, of course, never been to such a place, but he was more than willing to help me pick out the wallpaper.

I knew he'd never really thought about such trivial things. Why would he need to do so? He was the Crane heir. He had more money and power than the most avarice person could even imagine, but he'd given it all up. Of course, functioning like a "normal" person proved to be a challenge for him, but we learned and laughed together through it all.

That same day we chose the wallpaper, Ethan and I picked up some self-help books at the Book Cafe. We must've been a sight! He was determined that he would learn to put up the wallpaper himself, and he did. Sure, it was rough going at first. He actually ended up pasting his sleeve to the wall. I have the pictures to prove it, all for blackmail purposes, naturally. But more importantly, I have the memories.

_They were beautiful memories._

And those beautiful memories make me angry. I'm not perfect, but I never claimed to be! How could Ethan walk out on what we had? I've tried to be understanding, and I've tried to keep my faith in him. I truly have! But what good has it done me?

People say that virtue is its own reward. Yeah right. Call me selfish, but I want something more tangible.

The wall paper was the most recent victim of my impulsiveness. I don't know what got into me, but I knew that I had to get rid of it. Was I thinking that getting rid of the wallpaper would rid me of the memories? Maybe that's what it was.

It didn't work.

So now I sit in the living room, shreds of wallpaper still halfway hanging on the walls. It almost looks like a mountain lion came through and scratched at the walls. I was trying to tear it off evenly, but in my haste, it didn't turn out that way.

Shay came over to help me drag the Christmas tree out of the attic. He just looked at me and said with a wink, "Remind me to never ask you to scratch my back."

Leave it to Shay to make light of my ridiculous behavior. But, then again, he's always been like that. From the first time I met him, he was always very cool and very tongue-in-cheek. That must be why the girls like him so much. It makes him seem unattainable.

And who knows? Maybe that's why he likes _me_ so much. He chases me, but I won't be caught. How could I be caught when my heart is held in the palms of the hands of a man I haven't seen in almost four years?

But I think back to those early days of our marriage. We should've seen everything coming, but we didn't.

Once everything was set in motion, we couldn't put the pieces back together. Just like that wallpaper, we were left in shreds.

**January 28, 2001**

Theresa jumped slightly when she heard a knock on the front door of her mother's home. She looked to Pilar and saw that her mother was just as unnerved. After everything that they'd been through, after everything that was likely to result from her decision to marry Ethan, it was only natural.

"Please answer the door," Pilar instructed, a sense of resignation in her voice.

Theresa nodded, though somewhat taken aback by her mother's tone. Pain clenched in her heart for her mother. Any glimmer of hope was gone from the woman who had once been so vibrant.

She walked to the door and peered through the small rectangular panes of glass. Relief washed through her when she saw Ethan standing outside.

Quickly, she opened the door and greeted Ethan was a weak smile. He walked in, took off his gloves, and lightly touched her tear-stained face.

_She knows_, Theresa mouthed to her husband.

Ethan glanced at Pilar, noting her defensive posture. He looked back to his wife and pulled her into an embrace. "It's going to be okay," he whispered reassuringly.

Theresa felt herself almost melting as he held her. Leaning against his chest and hearing the beating of his heart comforted her. Her faith in him was absolute; she would believe anything he told her.

"Ethan, your family....?"

"We'll talk about it in a little while," he responded.

Their short moment of peace ended abruptly when Pilar approached them. "I suppose I should be thankful that it's you, Ethan, and not someone else, someone dangerous. But I cannot help but feel otherwise."

Theresa pulled away from Ethan slightly and gave her mother a pleading look.

"Theresa told me that you know, Pilar," Ethan said softly, hoping to soothe his mother-in-law with his tone.

Pilar crossed her arms. "Oh yes. I know. I know all about the lies and about the marriage! You came to me Ethan, not so long ago, and you promised me that you would not marry Theresa without my blessing. You broke your promise. I expected such impulsiveness from Theresa, but not from you."

"I'm sorry you're hurt, Pilar. I truly am. But you need to understand that I love your daughter," his gaze rested on Theresa, "and I don't regret marrying her."

Pilar sighed. "I've never doubted that you love my daughter, Ethan, but I have doubted the wisdom of such a union. It seems I was right to be concerned. Do you have any idea of what the two of you have done? Or, more likely, what it is going to cost you?"

"Mama, please try to be happy for us," Theresa said, fresh tears filling her eyes.

Pilar looked at her daughter in disbelief. "Happy for you, Theresita? Happy when you invite danger into our lives? Happy when you turn your back on the memories of your father and your brother and join the family that is responsible for their deaths? How dare you ask me to be happy!"

She turned her attention to Ethan. "And you....you're old enough to know better. I trusted you to be responsible, to do the right thing for my daughter and family by letting her go. Theresa is little more than a child, but you are a grown man! I've loved you like my own, Ethan, and I expected more, but I see now that it was wrong of me to expect so much."

Pilar's words hit Ethan like a ton of bricks. He knew she did not speak them lightly, which made the impact all the more forceful.

"I am not a child!" Theresa insisted. "I am old enough to make my own decisions! You are not responsible for those decisions, and neither is Ethan, so do _not_ talk to my _husband_ like that!"

Ethan took Theresa's hand and squeezed it. "It's okay, Resa. Your mother is right to be upset with me. I broke her trust. I'm not the man she thought I was, but I am _just_ a man--" he looked back at Pilar, "a man who loves your daughter more than anything in this world. Did you think I would marry her without some plan of how to handle my family? I would not risk her safety like that! After everything I've learned about them in these last few days, I did have the foresight to know that I was going to have to beat them at their own game in order to secure our future."

Pilar was skeptical. "And just what kind of deal did you make with them, Ethan? How do you know that it was effective?"

"I took away one of the things they want most in the world, and promised to take away the other thing should any harm come to anyone in your family."

"Oh, and I suppose it worked just like that," Pilar said sarcastically.

Ethan shot her a hurt look.

"I-I'm sorry, Ethan. I know you think that you've taken care of the situation, but I've been around your family more than you have. I've heard some of the underhanded deals that your father and grandfather have participated in or even orchestrated. I have a hard time believing that they would allow you to have such power over them. What could you possibly do?"

"I've cut my family from my life, thus taking away any chance of the merger for which they were clamoring. If I'm no longer the heir, I am of no use to them."

Theresa swallowed hard upon hearing her husband's words. He'd done it. He'd _really_ done it. She felt him wrap his arms around her waist. She rested her hands upon his, giving them a gentle squeeze.

What must he be going through? The Cranes were the only family he'd ever known! He'd grown up with such pride in what he perceived to be his heritage, but he'd willingly stripped all of that away.

_And he'd done it for her._

Ethan continued, "With that said, I stated the inevitability of their other 'precious' commodity being taken from them should anything happen to this family."

Pilar nodded, realizing that Ethan seemed to possess something that could lead to the downfall of Crane Industries. "You resorted to blackmail."

"Yes."

Theresa spoke, "It must have made Alistair furious!"

"And perhaps a little proud, as well," Pilar supplied. "So we are at a stalemate. They walk free, able to pretend that they never dirtied their hands with the blood of my family."

"Not exactly," Ethan replied.

"What do you mean? Have you gone to the police? Will your grandfather and father be charged with these crimes?"

"No, with the unfortunate propensity my family seems to have with buying the cooperation of the judicial system, it seems unlikely that any charges would stick."

"But before Luis died, he was so certain he had the evidence he needed!" Theresa exclaimed. "I remember that he came to me, and he tried to lay it on the line, but I wouldn't listen."

"But we've not been able to get our hands on that," Ethan replied. "And until we do, it does us no good. Actually, it may work to our benefit that they are not behind bars. If they were, they would have nothing to lose by pursuing a vendetta against any of us. As long as we are able to maintain this stalemate, as you put it, Pilar, no one gets hurt anymore."

"And we all move forward as though nothing happened?" Pilar commented wryly. "Easier said than done."

"There is one last thing," Ethan said.

"What's that?" Pilar asked wearily.

"You get to choose a fitting punishment for Alistair and Julian."

Pilar's expression betrayed her surprise. "What do you mean by 'punishment.'?"

"Exactly what I said. Alistair and Julian will be approaching you," Ethan replied.

Pilar sank onto the couch. "Is it really over?" she asked, looking at her son-in-law.

"Yes, it's over."

"I can't believe it. All these years of wondering....but at what price?"

Theresa walked to the couch and sat next to her mother. Placing her hand on Pilar's back, she rubbed gently. "It's time for us to rebuild our lives, Mama."

"It seems you have a head-start," Pilar commented.

"I know this isn't the way that you would have wanted us to marry, but Ethan and I do love each other, and we are committed to making this marriage work."

"But this was not the way to go about it, _mi hija_," Pilar reprimanded.

"Life doesn't come with an instruction manual, Mama. You've been so wonderful to me, and you've taught me right from wrong. Please trust that I know what is best for me."

"You will continue your education?" Pilar asked.

"Yes, Mama. It's back to class tomorrow," Theresa replied. "And I'll still be working with Genevieve Markham."

Pilar pulled away from her daughter. "I need time alone, Theresa. This is too much for me to take in at once."

Theresa was hurt by her mother's distance, but she persisted. "Are you sure? I just don't think it's a good idea for you to be alone now."

"It is time for you to go," Pilar replied quietly.

"I-I understand. Ethan and I are going to get a few things from my room, and I'll be on my way."

"Very well."

Theresa stood, hesitant to leave her mother by herself. "Do you want me to call Miguel? He's at the Bennett house, isn't he?"

Pilar bit her lip slightly. "Yes, but it would be best for him to remain there."

"Mama, are you sure?"

"Go Theresa!"

Pilar's voice was harsh, causing Theresa to jump slightly.

"Come on, Resa," Ethan said as he gently touched her arm. She allowed herself to be led away.

*****

It killed me that Mama was so hurt by my marriage to Ethan, but there was plenty of hurt to go around. Ethan had not only given up his family, but he'd lost the respect of my mother, a woman who had been his second mother.

He'd also lost much of his idealism. He'd never been like the rest of his family, as he had always looked for the good in people. No longer. He'd been lied to, and he would no longer tolerate deception in the slightest form.

And there I was--his loving wife--keeping the biggest of all secrets from him. He trusted me, and I let him down. My intentions were honorable, but I think we all know what is used to pave the road to hell.

Despite my mother's opposition, I was so proud and so happy to be Ethan's wife. And I was so incredibly touched by what he'd given up to be with me.

When I was falling apart, he was this amazing tower of strength. He used to tell me that one of the greatest gifts I gave him was the ability to look at life as it could be, not as it was. It's strange. I thought he was the one who helped me to do that.

*****

Ethan picked up Theresa and deftly carried her over the threshold of the honeymoon suite at the Harmony Inn.

In spite of the tumult of feelings she was experiencing after the encounter with her mother, Theresa couldn't help but giggle. "I thought the groom carried the bride over the threshold only on their wedding night."

"So I'm bucking tradition a little," he replied. "Though if you like, I can put you down," he teased as he swung her small body as though he was going to toss her down.

Theresa squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Ethan Crane, don't you _dare_!"

"And what will you give me?" he asked as he gently set her down on the bed.

"My firstborn," she replied with a smile as she stretched out on the bed. "That's what the princess usually promises the troll in the fairy tales, isn't it? Just so long as she has her heart's desire..."

Ethan grinned as he lay next to her. "So I'm a troll, am I?"

"Well," she said poking him in the ribs, "if you are, you're not a very convincing troll."

"That's a relief," he replied.

"But you _are_ going to give me my heart's desire," she said softly.

"Oh I am? And just what would that be?"

"_You_. Besides, I couldn't very well have a baby with a troll, now could I?"

Ethan's eyes widened. "Theresa, are you...."

"Am I what?" she asked. Then it occurred to her what he was thinking. "Oh! Y-you th-thought that I meant that I was....."

"For a split second," he admitted.

She smiled. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

"I wasn't scared," Ethan assured her. "I would've been happy."

She touched his face. "One day I do want a baby. More than one, actually. I want lots and lots and lots of babies." She cuddled close to her husband. "But we have all the time in the world."

"We certainly do. In the meantime," he said as he brushed his lips against hers, "we are going to establish a home for when our little ones do come along."

"A home. I like the sound of that," Theresa sighed.

"Me too," he replied. "I just--I just want to give you so much, Theresa."

"I already have everything I want," she said emphatically.

He sighed. Theresa was so special to him. In his heart he knew that the material things didn't matter to her, but at the same time he hated knowing that the life she had imagined that they would have together would no longer be possible.

"It's just that when I turned my back on Alistair and Julian, I turned my back on the fortune, too. I have my own money, money that I earned working as a lawyer at Crane Industries, but nothing like I had. I want to buy a house for us, and I have enough, but it won't be a mansion."

"Haven't you been listening? I already have _everything_ I want. It was never about the money, Ethan. Never."

Ethan kissed her fervently, feeling overwhelmed by his love for her. "Do you know what you mean to me?"

"I'm getting a pretty good idea," she replied almost breathlessly.

"I guess I've just never had to think about money before. If I wanted something, I bought it. If I wanted to go somewhere, I went without giving any thought to the cost associated with my actions."

"Then this is going to be a new adventure for you," she teased. "We'll sit down, examine our finances, and make a budget. I have my job with Mrs. Markham, and I just know you'll be snatched up by a law firm like that," she said snapping her fingers. "Plus, there's your savings and my savings. School is paid for with a scholarship, so that isn't a worry. You'll see, Ethan. Everything is going to be perfect because we have each other."

"I love your optimism, your enthusiasm. And I love you."

"I love you, too, Ethan. And one day, I am going to love the babies that we're going to have beyond reason."

"Theresa, just how do you intend to get those babies?" he teased.

She slipped her hands under Ethan's shirt raking her nails down his back. "Perhaps I should show you."

*****

Ethan and I always had a wonderful time with one other. It was only when other people were brought into the mix that the problems began. In the midst of the aftermath of our bittersweet marriage, certain people supported us while it seems others were plotting against us.

I called Whitney and told her our good news. I still remember how she used to tell me that Ethan would never look twice at me. Guess she was wrong, but perhaps it would have been better for Ethan if Whitney had been right.

We left that night and went to Sam and Grace Bennett's house. I knew that Miguel would be there with Charity. He'd almost become a permanent fixture in that household, and I could understand why. It was filled with such warmth and love. As Ethan and I walked up the short path to the front door, we could hear the laughter within.

In so many ways, Miguel and I had been without a family for what seemed to be a long time, but he'd found a sense of home once again, just as I'd found my sense of home with Ethan.

Sam answered the door, and I could tell that he was surprised to see Ethan and me, especially considering that he and Ethan were not on the best of terms. Yet he was incredibly gracious, inviting us inside and offering hot apple cider.

I couldn't help but wonder how Ethan's life would have been different if he'd been raised with Sam Bennett as his father. Yet how could I tell him? Mama stressed that if Ethan's true paternity were to be revealed, he would be in danger. How could I endanger the man I loved more than life itself?

When Miguel saw that we were there, his thoughts immediately went to Mama. He was certain that something had happened to her. He kept asking so many questions, it was difficult to get a word in! Once Ethan and I assured him that Mama was fine, he calmed somewhat, and we were finally able to tell him our news: we were married!

To this day, I still remember the hot tears of happiness that spilled over my cheeks when Miguel hugged me and told me how happy he was. He shook Ethan's hand, welcoming him into our family. It meant the world to us. For all the opposition we'd faced, my little brother supported us.

Miguel lives in New Mexico now near Tio Carlos and Tia Marta. I don't get to see him as often as I would like, but when I think of him, I think of his optimism. Miguel has the kindest spirit of anyone I know.

That same night, Ethan and I had an encounter with someone else, and it didn't go quite as well as our encounter with my little brother. We invited Miguel to go to the Seascape Restaurant with us, but he declined. Charity had prepared a mushroom quiche especially for him, and he didn't feel right to eat out knowing that she'd gone to the trouble of making one of his favorite dishes.

I can't say I was too heartbroken. Even though Ethan and I had been in each other's presence almost non-stop for the last five days, I loved to be with him. So we decided to enjoy a nice dinner.

Ethan was a little distracted, though. He felt a responsibility to tell Gwen of our marriage in person. He thought it would be cruel to let her find out by word of mouth. They were still friends, after all. As a friend, he owed her that courtesy.

My Ethan was so naive where Gwen was concerned, though. At least, he had been until that point. I'd been around Gwen enough to know that she had definite claws, just like her mother. She'd been hurt by our relationship. I hate that she was hurt, but she clung to the pain, wearing her resentment like a badge of honor when she was around me. Of course, to others, she seemed so gracious. They would praise her resilience and her generosity of spirit.

Looking back, I can recognize that night as a pivotal night in our lives. Of course, we didn't realize it at the time. But dear God, if only I knew then what I know now, I would have handled the situation entirely differently!

*****

"Ethan, are you alright?" Theresa asked as she reached across the table and lightly squeezed his hand.

"It's been a long day," he replied, "and it's still not over."

"You're thinking of telling Gwen," Theresa said quietly.

Ethan studied his wife's features, noting the tiny worry line on her forehead. "It's the right thing to do, Theresa. She needs to hear it from me and no one else. That's why after we leave here tonight, I need to see her. Now that more people know about our wedding, the news is bound to get out."

Theresa nodded. "I know you're right, Ethan, but I'm just anxious, I suppose. I know that Gwen still holds out hope for you and her. This is going to be really hard on her."

"It will be," Ethan conceded. "But she is going to find someone that she loves beyond reason, someone who makes her feel like she's with the most amazing person in the world. I know she will because I've found that person for me."

"_Te amo_," Theresa said softly.

"I love you, too," he replied before placing a gentle kiss on her lips.

______

"Ethan's back from his business trip, Mother," Gwen said clasping her hands together as she and Rebecca walked into the Seascape Restaurant arm-in-arm.

"Oh, really?" Rebecca replied, her eyebrow shooting up. "Did he call and let you know?"

"Not exactly," Gwen replied, her face falling somewhat. Yet her sour mood was lifted with the tidbit of special knowledge she held--knowledge she would be using very soon. "I called his office, and his secretary informed me. Soon, though, Mother, very soon, he will be sharing everything with me again--including his bed."

Rebecca giggled. "Now that's my girl."

"Do you have reservations?" the host asked the two ladies.

"Yes," replied Rebecca. "Under Hotchkiss."

"Right this way," the man replied. As soon as he turned his back on them and began to lead them through the restaurant, his eyebrows shot up. _There definitely were all types._

Gwen smiled, feeling proud of herself and pleased that her mother seemed proud, as well. Yet her smile disappeared when she saw _them._

She clutched her mother's arm. "I think I'm going to be ill," Gwen said as she watched Ethan and Theresa kiss then pull apart and smile at each other. Ethan said something that Theresa obviously found amusing because she laughed, reached across the table, and touched his face lightly.

"Don't worry, Gwen. Theresa is going to find a way to hang herself. Put on your public face."

Gwen's smile returned. "Of course, Mother. Though when the time is right, I will be paying Ms. Lopez-Fitzgerald a courtesy call."

_______

"Do you think Miguel and Charity will get married?" Theresa asked Ethan.

"I've not really been around either of them much, but every time I see one of them, the other isn't far behind. They seem happy, don't they?"

"They do," Theresa replied. "But Kay doesn't seem too happy about Charity and Miguel's relationship."

"Really? What makes you say that?"

"Just something in the way she watches them. It hurts her to see them together," Theresa said.

"Do you think Miguel knows?" Ethan asked.

"No. Men are oblivious to these things," Theresa said with a wink.

"Oh, they are, are they?" Ethan replied with a grin on his face and a challenge in his voice.

"Getting you to realize that I truly loved you was pretty difficult, but getting you to admit your feelings to me was like pulling teeth, Mr. Crane! I still remember going to the cabin with those papers, and you were so cold to me at first."

"It's because I knew I was in danger," Ethan replied.

"So I'm dangerous, am I?" she asked with a grin.

"You have been murder on my self-control."

Theresa was about to speak when they noticed someone had joined them. "Excuse me, Mr. Crane, but there is a telephone call for you. It's your mother."

Concern filled Ethan's features. Since he'd left earlier in the day, he'd thought of Ivy frequently. She'd been devastated upon hearing his news.

He looked to Theresa, "I'd better take this."

"Sure. It might be important," she said. "I think I'm just going to take a little walk onto the terrace. It's getting a little warm in here," she added with a wink.

Ethan removed his dinner jacket and draped it over Theresa's shoulders. "It's cold outside, so you still might need this." His lips met hers briefly. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Sounds good," she said as she stood.

Walking out onto the terrace, she was greeted with what almost felt like a wall of cold air until she adjusted to it. Pulling Ethan's jacket around her, she sighed and inhaled his scent.

"You and Ethan seemed to be having a good time inside," said a voice from behind.

Theresa turned around. "Gwen!" To say that she was surprised and ill-prepared to see Gwen was an understatement.

"Enjoy it while it lasts because it will be ending before you can say _uno_, _dos_, _tres_."

Theresa's eyes narrowed as anger filled her. "Wow. You really aren't making any attempt at all to sugarcoat matters anymore, are you?"

Gwen smiled. "It's just us girls. I'll make a deal with you. I won't sugarcoat our 'relationship,' and neither will you. How does that sound to you?"

"I don't think you want to hear what I'm thinking right now."

"Okay, then. Why don't I fill you in on what I'm thinking? I might as well because even if you go back and tell Ethan what I've said, he won't believe you. So I'll just come right out. Your days with Ethan are numbered, Theresa. All of your plans are going to go 'poof.' You see, I know a little something about you, something that will blow you completely out of the water."

"I'm not interested in this little game you're playing, so you might as well take it somewhere else," Theresa replied trying to keep her cool.

"Oh, but I'm not the one playing games. You're the master of toying around with people's lives, aren't you? I mean, first you insinuate yourself into my relationship with Ethan. I don't know if it occurred to you that we were very happy before you came along. Oh, and then there's the virginity game you play with him." Gwen rolled her eyes. "You wave this 'precious gift' in front of Ethan and you use it to manipulate him into doing what you want. I suppose you think you're going to finagle a marriage proposal, but you better know right now that men like Ethan don't marry girls like you."

"Is that so?"

"Absolutely," Gwen said with confidence. "You are, after all, classless. Everyone knows it. Let's not forget that a little girl like you would not have the faintest notion as to how to satisfy a man like Ethan in bed. Which, I guess is another reason why you haven't slept with him yet, because you wouldn't know how to keep him."

Theresa took a deep breath. "Gwen, I suggest you stop right there because you are talking about things you know nothing about!"

She turned away from Gwen and heard her laugh.

"Oh, I think I'm the expert on this subject. I gave Ethan pleasure for years. He never could get enough of me."

"I don't want to hear about it," Theresa hissed.

"Oh, but since you're so fond of games, Theresa, I thought you might be interested in a little game he and I used to play together. See....we would be ready to make love, and he would enter me--just a little--before pulling back out. He would do that a few times, teasing me, until I couldn't take it anymore."

"You are sick, Gwen!" Theresa exclaimed as she turned to walk away from the other woman.

Gwen wasn't so willing to let her go, though. Grabbing her wrists, she clasped onto Theresa tightly.

"Let go of me!" Theresa yelled as she tried to jerk away from Gwen.

"Not until I finish my story," Gwen said as she tightened her grip even more. "Really, Theresa, you wouldn't want to be rude, now would you? Now where was I? Oh yes. Ethan would tease me, torture me really, until I couldn't take it anymore. He felt so good against me, and even better inside of me."

Gwen paused for effect, studying the face of her adversary. Theresa's eyes were welling with tears. Gwen wasn't sure if it was her grip that hurt Theresa or her words. But if her words hadn't hurt yet, they were about to.

"Shut up!"

Gwen ignored her and felt an immense satisfaction when the tears spilled over her cheeks. "And do you know what I would say to him? I'd say, 'Fuck me, Ethan. Fuck me hard!' And he would, Theresa. He would hammer into me, and he liked it when I talked dirty to him.

"So you see, little girl...."

"Gwen, let go of my _wife_!" Ethan snarled.

Theresa jumped slightly upon hearing Ethan's voice. When had he arrived on the terrace? She couldn't be certain, but she had never heard him sound so angry in the entire time she'd known him.

Gwen spun around and looked at Ethan, putting on a smile, though its shakiness belied her surprise and fear--fear that she'd truly, irrevocably blown her chances with him. "Ethan, how long have you been standing there?" she asked nervously

"I thought I told you to take your hands off of my wife," Ethan replied, ignoring her question. His voice was even, but his tone was harsh.

Gwen released her grip on Theresa, and Theresa moved away from her.

"Your _what_?" Gwen asked. "Ethan, is this some kind of joke? Because if it is, it isn't very funny."

"Do you hear anyone laughing, Gwen?"

Gwen's eyes shifted to Theresa's left hand. She gasped when she saw the light from inside reflect off the gold on the engagement and wedding bands.

And that was when the real trouble began.


	13. Chapter 12

**Author's Note:** I originally wrote this story in 2001 and am now archiving it here. It's classic E/T, so when you imagine Ethan, imagine Travis Schuldt in the role.

Obviously, I do not own the characters. I am merely playing the role of puppeteer.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve: Later**

"I-I don't believe this. Your _wife_, Ethan?"

"Why are you having such a hard time believing this, Gwen? You've known for a long time how I feel about Theresa. She is the woman I love, and I'm going to spend the rest of my life trying to make her happy," Ethan replied harshly, anger surging through him.

Gwen glared at Theresa. "You let me go on and on. How could you? You must've thought that you were going to have a big laugh at my expense later on."

"Of course not! Unlike _some_ people, I'm not like that!" Theresa insisted. "But how could I tell you when you wouldn't even let me get a word in?"

"You have a lot of nerve playing the injured party when you were purposely setting out to hurt Theresa," Ethan reminded Gwen. "I certainly didn't want you finding out about our marriage this way, but I have to admit that I'm glad _I_ found out about _you_."

"What do you mean?" Gwen asked.

"Now I know what a spiteful person you are, Gwen."

"Ethan, I'm not. I--"

"Save it, Gwen!" Ethan roared. "I heard the terrible things you were saying to her, gloating to her about things that are not only extremely personal but are far in the past. You were attempting to make her feel like she's less than you. I warn you now, don't ever come near my wife again. She is my _life_. She is good, innocent, and honest….something you will never be."

Gwen was in danger of crumbling, but she was determined not to give either of them the satisfaction of seeing her completely lose her composure. "Honest, Ethan? You believe Theresa has been honest with you?"

"Completely," Ethan replied without hesitation.

Gwen raised an eyebrow as she looked at Theresa. "Ethan wouldn't think you were so innocent and honest if he knew what I know. Do you want to tell Ethan of your duplicity, or shall I?"

Ethan took Theresa's hand in his own. "I'm not interested in anything you have to say, Gwen. Don't do this to yourself."

Gwen's gaze never left Theresa. "You're going to let him blindly defend you when you and I both know that you've been lying to Ethan all along."

Theresa's brows furrowed. What was Gwen talking about? She hadn't been lying to Ethan. She told him everything! The only thing she'd ever kept from him….

"Oh dear God," Theresa whispered.

_The papers_.

_Ethan's paternity_.

"This conversation is through. Theresa and I are leaving."

"Look at her, Ethan! Look at how scared she is! Does this look like the face of a woman who's being completely honest with you? She and I both know why she's lying. You, Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald, are nothing but a lying, gold-digging whore. If she won't be honest with you, I will."

"Don't you get it? I don't care about anything you have to say! Theresa has stood by me in situations where other people would've walked away. So let me be honest with you, Gwen. I don't love you. Stay away from my wife, and stay away from me. There is nothing that you could possibly say that would make me turn my back on the woman I _do_ love."

"I wouldn't be so certain," Gwen continued. "The truth is that--"

"Gwen, let it go," came a calming voice, a distinct contrast to the tone of the conversation.

Gwen looked toward the door which led back into the restaurant. "Mother, don't interrupt me!" she barked.

"No, my dear," Rebecca replied, her expression full of warning, "you've said quite enough. There will time for this _later_."

Gwen took a deep breath. It wasn't over, but for now….perhaps her mother was right.

"When later comes, Theresa, you won't be able to call yourself Mrs. Crane anymore."

Theresa swallowed hard. _Gwen knew._

No, she couldn't know! It was impossible, wasn't it?

Of course it was impossible! Gwen was bluffing. Pure and simple.

Yet Theresa could not shake the feeling of dread that permeated through her very soul.

* * *

Some time later Theresa sank to the floor of the shower, pulling her knees to her chest, letting the hot wash over her. If only she could wash away the memories of that night. Gwen's words had hurt her more than she'd shown, more than she thought was imaginable.

It killed her to think of the man she loved, her husband, with anyone else. What they shared was so special, so intimate, and so earth-shattering that it broke her heart to know he'd shared moments like that with another.

The same hands that touched her so tenderly had touched Gwen. The same lips that kissed her so passionately had kissed Gwen. The same voice that she longed to hear, the voice that spoke of love for her, had spoken of love for Gwen.

A sob caught within her throat. What if Gwen was right? What if she didn't know how to please Ethan? His patience could only go so far….

She shook her head, willing the insecurities to go away. No, she knew that it was good with them. She couldn't let Gwen's taunts get to her any more than they already had.

Besides, hadn't they already settled this issue?

But it was hard to let the insecurities go. So hard.

They'd spoken of past relationships on their second day of marriage, and Ethan had tried to reassure her.

_"Resa?"_

_"Hmmm?" she asked drowsily._

_"You are amazing," he replied as he trailed his fingers down her bare back._

_"You're pretty amazing yourself," she said pressing tiny kisses to his chest. "When we were dating, I used to wonder what it would be like to be here with you like this."_

_He smiled at her tenderly. "You and me both. I can't tell you how many cold showers I've had to take on account of you."_

_"Now that I know what it is to make love, I think I understand a little better what you gave up to pursue a relationship with me. It makes me feel so special and so...loved....that you would do that."_

_He gently stroked her hair. "Theresa, I never felt as though I was giving anything up to be with you. That never even entered my mind. I felt like the luckiest man alive that you felt the same way I did. I still remember our picnic in the field near the cabin. That day was a such a wonderful day, a turning point."_

_Theresa persisted. "But I know that things were different with you and Gwen. You were together a long time, and you were intimate with each other. She was your first, and the two of you learned together._

_"I'm butchering what I'm trying to say. I know I am. It's just that I love you so much, and we waited so long to be together. I just--I just always want to make you proud and make you happy. And.....," she took a deep breath, "I always want to be good for you."_

_Ethan swallowed hard. Had he somehow made her feel that she wasn't wonderful? Didn't she know she was his everything? "Don't you know that you're everything I've ever wanted?"_

_"Ethan..."_

_"Please, Theresa. Just listen." He turned to his side and looked into her chocolate colored eyes. "You are my everything, my soul mate, my temptress. I used to scoff at the notion of fate; I thought we made our own destinies. But then you came into my life making me question everything I thought I knew. I realized that I hadn't been living; I had just been existing. _

_"I'll be honest with you. I wish Gwen and I hadn't made love. We might have been compatible as friends, but what I felt for her was not what a man should feel for a woman he claims to be in love with. I think she probably feels the same way. We loved each other, but we weren't _in_ love with each other. We probably would have figured all of that out sooner if our families hadn't constantly pushed for us to marry. In that sense, it was wrong for us to be in a romantic relationship--and the physical side of our relationship confused some of the issues we had._

_"But just because I have more experience than you, I don't ever want you to feel as though you disappoint me. When we make love, there is this intensity between us that I never even imagined could exist You make me feel things I didn't even know were possible."_

_Tears came to her eyes. "This connection we share, Ethan…it's…it's…overwhelming at times. Sometimes I feel as though you touch my very soul."_

_"I feel the same way. It's as though I'm meant for only you, and you're meant for only me."_

_"I always knew there could only be one man for me, and I always knew that I would find him. And I have found him--in you."_

_"Theresa, I know it hurts you that I didn't wait. I wish I would have. For so many reasons, I wish I would have. You saved yourself for the person you would marry....and I didn't."_

_Theresa propped up on her elbows. "Ethan, I'm not trying to make you feel guilty. True, the thought of you with another woman is upsetting, but when you and Gwen were together, you didn't even know I existed! And you did think she would be the woman you would marry." _

_"But…"_

_"No buts, Ethan. From this point on, there's no one in the world except us."_

Theresa shook her head. "You were so certain that Gwen was over you, but I knew better. And what did I do? I pretended like it didn't matter. Oh God, what is this going to cost us, Ethan?"

* * *

"I think we need to talk about what happened," Ethan said gently as he placed his hands on Theresa's shoulders.

She stood looking out the window of their hotel suite and would not turn around to meet his gaze. Instead, it was fixed on some invisible point in the distance.

Ethan sighed when she didn't respond. "Theresa?"

"I don't want to talk about it," she finally managed.

"Sweetie--"

"Just leave me alone, Ethan," she said quietly, feeling a chill run through her. She pulled her robe more tightly to her, wanting to be any place except where she was.

"Theresa, don't shut me out!"

"What do you want from me? Do you want me to tell you that everything is okay? Well, it's not okay! It's never going to be okay again! You've cut yourself off from your family, and for all intents and purposes, I've done the same. I'm nineteen years old, I have no idea of how to be a good wife, and I have no idea of how to fit into your world. Your friends at the country club, in the legal community, the charity circuit…I have no idea of how to act around them!"

"Theresa, _you_ are my world. All of that other stuff, it doesn't matter to me."

"But it matters to _me._ Ethan, I've _ruined_ you! Everything that you've ever known, you've given up for me."

"You haven't ruined me! You've given me the most amazing gift, Resa! The night you became my wife and vowed that we would share our lives, that we would share _a_ life together through good and bad, was the best night of my life."

"And for what ? I don't know if I'm coming or going. And then tonight with Gwen…." Her voice trailed off remembering the words of Ethan's ex-fiancée, the words that made her want to crawl into a hole and die. "Tonight was not an ending in Gwen's mind; it was a beginning. She will never let this go, and she will never let _you _go."

"Resa, you don't have to worry about what she said. I know exactly what she was referring to."

Theresa swallowed hard. "You do?"

"Of course I do. I know you have no secrets from me. She thinks that I don't know about Chuck, that's all. But we talked about this a long time ago. I know that it was just a misunderstanding."

"R-right. Chuck."

Ethan stroked her hair. "There's nothing Gwen can do to us, Resa. Nothing."

But Theresa was not convinced. Not in the least.

No, whatever it was Gwen knew, she was certain that she would be able to use it later. But was it something Gwen thought would break up her marriage, or did Gwen mean it literally when she said that Theresa wouldn't be able to call herself 'Mrs. Crane' anymore?

Pilar had warned her against telling Ethan. She'd even gone so far as to say that Ethan's safety hinged on him being a Crane. If the truth of Ethan's paternity were to be revealed….

No! It couldn't happen!

And it was up to her to make sure that Gwen didn't know and that neither she nor anyone else would ever find out.

Theresa pulled away from Ethan and tossed aside her robe. "I've got to go, Ethan," she said hastily as she pulled on a pair of jeans and sweater.

"What? Darling, I know you're still upset, but running isn't going to make the problems go away. You need to stay so that we can talk this out."

"No, Ethan, I have to go, and it can't wait!" She scurried about the room collecting a jacket and her purse.

Ethan ran his hands through his hair in frustration watching her helplessly. "Don't walk out on us, Theresa!"

She paused, her heart catching within her. He thought she was truly leaving! She shook her head vehemently before walking toward him and placing her hand on his face. "Oh, Sweetie, I'm coming back. I would never leave you."

"Then don't leave now. Whatever it is, let it wait until the morning."

"I have class in the morning, and this--this is not something that can wait."

He took her hand and held it tightly. "Then I'll come with you."

"Not this time," she insisted.

His voice was full of concern. "Then where are you going?"

Theresa hated that he was so worried about her, and she hated what she had to do. Yet she had no choice. Perhaps she could tell him a little without telling him everything. "I'm going home. I just remembered that I have to do something very important."

"Why can't it wait?" Ethan asked.

"Just trust me. It can't," Theresa insisted.

With that, she planted a kiss on his lips before whispering, "Just remember that everything I do, it's because I love you."

* * *

I made so many mistakes that night. I cringe as I write this.

As I think back, there's this part of me that regrets not punching Gwen. What a regret to have, right? Even now, it makes me so angry when I think of the things she said about Ethan to hurt me. I know she was hurting, too. I know that. But there was no excuse for it!

I just never should have let it progress to that point.

And that was just the beginning.

Up until that point, I'd always thought she was a classy person. I still remember being alternately jealous and in awe of her when we first met. Now….now I just think she's pathetic. All the apologies in the world can't begin to make up for what she did.

It all seems so unfair! She has everything I've ever wanted; a husband, a child, and I sleep in an empty bed each night, my only consolation the wonderful dreams of my Ethan.

I regret that I didn't handle the situation with Gwen differently. What I did when I left the hotel suite sealed our fate.

I was a different person. So young, so naïve. I still had stars in my eyes.

How foolish.

But that's no excuse, for what I did was inexcusable.

I did go home. Actually, I startled my poor mother in the process. She was sitting in the living room when I tore into the house and headed straight for the hall closet. I tossed everything about looking for Mrs. Crane's attaché case.

Mama demanded to know what I was doing, but I wouldn't give her an answer. I couldn't answer her, not when everything depended on those papers still being where they belonged. I reasoned that if they were still there, no one, including Gwen, could possibly know of their existence.

My heart pounded as I opened the brown leather case, and it leapt for joy when I saw Mrs. Crane's personal papers were still safely intact in their hiding place. It was just as I left them.

But I also knew that I could not let them be. They were the embodiment of Ethan's destruction, and I was determined to destroy them before they could be used against him. Without thinking, I pushed past my mother and threw them into the fire, watching with satisfaction as they burned.

There would be no more evidence, no traces of Mrs. Crane's secret.

Ethan was safe.

_We_ were safe.

_So I thought._

I allowed myself be lulled into a false sense of security, just as a child allows itself to be lulled to sleep. I turned to my mother and explained what I had done and why. She warned me not to turn a blind eye to anyone, including Gwen and Rebecca Hotchkiss.

I didn't listen.

And the _later_ that Gwen and her mother had spoken about finally came.


	14. Chapter 13

**A/N: ** I originally wrote this story in 2001 and am now archiving it here. It's classic E/T, so when you imagine Ethan, imagine Travis Schuldt in the role.

Obviously, I do not own the characters. I am merely playing the role of puppeteer.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen: Best Served Cold**

The months passed, and I started to believe that Ethan and I had faced the worst. Everything was perfect and just fell right into place. Well, I should say that everything was perfect between Ethan and me. With other people…that was a different story.

News of our impromptu marriage swept through the newspapers and the rumor mill. Each time we appeared at any of the society functions, it was the same all over again. The stares, the whispers. I knew what people were saying about us. They were saying that I had somehow trapped Ethan into marrying me, that I must be pregnant so he was obligated to make me his wife.

I don't think anyone from Ethan's world understood how we felt about each other, except for Genevieve Markham. As I continued working with her, I was in awe of her. I still am, actually. She is the epitome of a true lady. Her classiness, her kindness, her sense of humor, her talent…all of these things combined just made me look forward to going to work each day.

Goodness, I don't think Shay even trusted in me. He's much like his mother in that he has a wonderful sense of humor and this…this _magnetism._ However, I don't think he's quite as nice as Genevieve. He certainly wasn't during that time in my life. Perhaps I could chalk it up to his marriage to that poisonous Elizabeth Rochester and her influence over him, but he was rather cold. I'm so glad he finally realized what she was truly like. I just wish he didn't have to learn about her the hard way.

Things got better with Mama, too.

Ethan had promised that Julian and Alistair would give her whatever she wanted. I don't know how he managed it, but somehow he did.

Mama met with Alistair and Julian in private. I went with her to the Crane Mansion to offer my support, but she bade me to remain in the living room and far away from the meeting itself. To this day, I don't know what was said in that room behind the closed doors. All I know is that both Alistair and Julian emerged from that room, their faces pale, as though they'd seen a ghost.

Mama refused to speak of it, but I began to see in her more of the woman I once knew.

I'm a creature of habit…and one of my habits is that I am so curious….so when she wouldn't tell me what happened, I was more than a little upset. It wasn't as though Ethan could find out, either. He saw his mother regularly, but he would not step foot on Crane property. He worried about her being there, but one thing I've learned about Ivy Crane over the years is that the woman is as tough as nails.

Speaking of nails, Ethan surprised me completely when we moved into our house. I don't know what it was, but this dormant handy-man personality emerged. I came home from class one day, and there was Ethan, hammer in hand, doing renovations.

I teased him mercilessly saying that I was shocked he even knew how to hold a hammer properly. I think he was a little annoyed with me at first, but when he looked down and saw his collection of "how-to" books strewn about the floor, he laughed at himself.

Everyone would be shocked if they knew the real Ethan, I suppose. I think everyone has always had ideas of what he is like. At one point, I even fell into that category. I had so many dreams, so many fantasies about Ethan Crane.

All I know is that the reality of Ethan is so much better than the dream of him.

I know that all too well.

I want him to come home so badly, but after everything that has happened, I'm not surprised that he's chosen to stay away.

**May 5, 2001 **

"It feels _so_ good to finally be out of school for the summer! It doesn't even seem possible that my first year of college is over," Theresa sighed happily as she looked at her husband.

Ethan glanced from where he sat behind the wheel of the car and smiled before returning his focus on the road. "I remember those days," he said with a grin. "It seems like every time I'd get a break from school, I'd dream that I was supposed to be in school, but hadn't shown up. Then in my dream, I'd end up failing the class."

"Ugh," Theresa said wrinkling her nose. "Sounds more like a nightmare to me."

Ethan chuckled. "I suppose it was. After all, Cranes don't fail. Once when I was about ten or eleven, I made a B on a math exam. Father and Grandfather went through the roof."

"I'm surprised they were aware of it," Theresa said quietly.

"They were aware only when it suited them," Ethan replied, bitterness creeping into his voice.

"Do you think they'll be there tonight, Ethan?"

He sighed. "I hope not," he admitted. "But if they are, it's of no consequence to us. They can't touch us anymore, Theresa. No one can."

Theresa closed her eyes and said a silent prayer.

* * *

"Ethan, Theresa, I'm so glad you could make it!" Genevieve Markham exclaimed before lightly kissing Theresa's cheek.

"Thanks so much for inviting us," Theresa said with a smile as she looked at the older woman.

"We wouldn't have missed your housewarming for anything in the world," Ethan replied with equal warmth. He'd always liked Genevieve; he considered her to be one of the more genuine matrons from his set. Yet since he'd married Theresa five months ago, his appreciation for Mrs. Markham had grown even more. She always went out of her way to make Resa feel comfortable and accepted. For that, Ethan would always be grateful.

He knew it hadn't been easy for Theresa to come to the party--or any of the parties since they'd become a couple, for that matter. Some people still looked at his wife with disdain, and it made his heart ache on her behalf. Theresa Crane was the most amazingly beautiful, spunky, kind, creative, and honest person he'd ever known! Why couldn't people see that?

Genevieve smiled as she looked around her newly refurbished foyer.

"Any excuse to show off, right Mother?" Shay asked as he and Elizabeth approached the trio.

Genevieve playfully patted her son's face. "I'm going to have to send you to bed without your supper," she teased.

Shay took Genevieve's hand in his own and gently kissed it. "It didn't work when I was a boy, and it won't work now. I'm afraid I'm too far gone," he sighed.

"You are incorrigible!"

Shay raised an eyebrow. "I know."

Elizabeth cleared her throat loudly. "You'll have to forgive my husband," she said to Ethan and Theresa who were watching the exchange with amusement. "Shay is still living out his childhood, whether he wants to admit it or not."

Though said in jest, the words had a certain edge to them that was not lost on either Ethan or Theresa.

Shay shot a look at Elizabeth before turning his attention to Ethan and Theresa. "It's good to see you, Ethan," Shay said shaking Ethan's hand. His gaze then lingered upon Theresa, and his appreciation of her was quite obvious. "You look amazing tonight, Theresa," he said taking her hand in his.

"Thank you."

"I'd keep an eye on her if I were you, Ethan. She's so beautiful, a man would be crazy not to try to steal her away."

Ethan's eyes narrowed. This was not the kind of admiration that he had in mind.

Theresa, in turn, swallowed uncomfortably.

Elizabeth smiled, making Theresa feel even more uncomfortable. "Don't pay my husband any attention, Ethan. I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. Theresa knows not to bite the hand that feeds her. Don't you, dear?"

"Elizabeth..." Ethan's tone was one of warning.

Theresa grabbed his hand and interrupted him. "Ethan, I'm just dying to dance. Let's go inside."

Ethan gazed into her pleading eyes. He could tell that the exchange had bothered her, but she did not want to give Elizabeth the satisfaction of seeing it. He merely nodded and mouthed _I love you_.

Once they were on the dance floor, Ethan pulled her close, and Theresa melted in his arms. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she promised. "What just happened wasn't about you and me. It was about Shay, Elizabeth, and their unhappiness."

"They're not even bothering to put on a public front anymore," Ethan noted.

"No, they don't."

"It reminds me of Mother and Julian." Ethan sighed, remembering years of being around his parents, two people who could barely stand the sight of each other.

Theresa clung to Ethan a bit more tightly, hearing him speak of his parents. It was strange to hear him refer to the man who had raised him by his first name and not with a familial term of endearment. It was all too representative of what Ethan had given up to be with her. No matter what, she was determined to never disappoint him, to never to let him down in any way. Ethan was far too precious to her.

"It will never be like that between us," Theresa promised him. "I love you so much, Ethan Crane. _Te amo."_

Ethan's lips brushed his wife's briefly until he heard the sound of someone clearing her throat. Theresa felt her cheeks grow warm as she turned to see her mother-in-law.

"I hated to interrupt the two of you," Ivy said with a smile. "But I couldn't bear to stay away a moment longer."

Ethan greeted his mother with a hug, all too aware of the strain his decision to leave the Crane family had caused her. Even all these months later, Ivy struggled with her disappointment, her curiosity, and her terrible and increased unhappiness in her marriage.

"We're so glad to see you, Ivy," Theresa replied wholeheartedly. "Are you here alone tonight?"

Ivy sighed. "Unfortunately, no." Her gaze shot across the room and found her husband who was nursing a glass of red wine and flirting with a cocktail waitress.

Theresa's eyes followed the direction in which Ivy looked, and she felt uneasiness mingled with anger flow through her as she saw Julian. So much pain had been caused by that man and his father. Her family would never be the same again. Her father and her brother--gone. And for what?

"I wasn't certain that Julian would be coming with you," Ethan replied, trying with much effort to keep his voice even.

"It was a last minute decision, prompted by Alistair," Ivy said. "That man has his hands in everything."

"You have no idea," Ethan said quietly.

"But look at the two of you, so obviously happy," Ivy soothed with a smile. "That's all I ever wanted for you, Ethan. Regardless of how I feel about the way the two of you married, I am so very happy that you've found what I never did again."

Ethan eyebrow shot up. "Again, Mother?"

Ivy felt panic run through her. She'd spoken carelessly, she knew. Ethan could never find out.....

Theresa sensed Ivy's panic, largely because she felt the same way. If the truth of Ethan's paternity ever came out, not only would Ethan be devastated to discover that the people he loved most had lied to him, but their safety net would be gone, as well.

"Ethan, I'm thirsty. Would you mind terribly getting me something cool to drink?" Theresa interrupted.

Theresa's request took Ethan's attention from his mother's comment. He looked down at his wife and grinned. "For you, I'd do anything."

She smiled back at him broadly. "I'll remember you said that."

"Would you like anything, Mother?" Ethan asked turning his attention to Ivy.

She waved her hand dismissively. "I'm fine. You run along. It will give Theresa and me a chance to catch up."

"I'll be back in a minute," Ethan said before gently placing a kiss on Theresa's lips.

Theresa's heart fluttered as she replied, "We'll be waiting."

"My son is a good man," Ivy sighed, allowing herself a short moment of contentment as she watched Ethan walk away.

"The best," Theresa replied softly.

"Let's go sit down," Ivy suggested.

Theresa followed her mother-in-law through the barrage of faces.

Finding a couple of chairs in the corner, the two ladies took a seat. Ivy glanced around the room, seeing so many familiar faces, and marveling at how time had passed so quickly.

"When I was about your age, I gave birth to Ethan," she started. "I was a young wife in an unhappy marriage, but Ethan brought so much happiness into my life. He was and still is the most important person to me."

"And he loves you so much," Theresa supplied. "It's rare to see a man who is so respectful and loving of his mother. Ethan is like that. Luis was, too."

"I haven't seen your mother lately," Ivy commented as she took Theresa's hands in her own. "How is she?"

"She's been keeping busy since she stopped working at the mansion. Volunteering with the church and at the youth center has kept her swamped. She's even taking some classes this summer in Castleton."

Ivy smiled. "She's never been one to sit around, has she?"

Theresa shook her head. "No, it's not in Mama's nature."

"I miss her. The mansion seems just like it is: an empty shell. I never thought I would see the day when she would leave or when Ethan would leave."

"If there's nothing to stay for, Ivy, why do you stay?"

Ivy paused. "It's more complicated than that."

"I don't understand."

Ivy squeezed Theresa's hand. "You're still so young, Theresa. There's so much that you don't know about lives of bitter, middle-aged women who've given everything up for nothing. I pray that you won't have to find out things the hard way."

"I want you to be happy."

"I lost my chance at happiness a long time ago. The choices I made guaranteed that. Now I have to live with the consequences of my actions."

Theresa squared her shoulders. "You are still a young, beautiful woman. Far too young and vivacious to be a martyr."

"I _am_ turning Genevieve's housewarming into a pity party aren't I?" Ivy acknowledged.

"I don't know if I would go that far," Theresa hedged.

"Well, there is something that would make me feel better."

"What's that?" Theresa asked.

"If you and Ethan were to make me a grandmother soon," Ivy answered with a smile.

Theresa felt her cheeks flush. "Oh. Wow."

Looking at Theresa and hearing her reaction, Ivy couldn't help but laugh lightly. "I've embarrassed you."

"N-no. I'm not embarrassed. I'm just....."

"Embarrassed," Ivy persisted.

"Maybe a little. Of all the things I thought you would say, I wasn't expecting that one," Theresa admitted.

"Well, I guess you could say that I've given this some thought. Having a little one around again would just be so wonderful, Theresa. I've even been thinking of names to suggest. I know, I know. It's presumptuous, and I _am_ getting ahead of myself....."

Theresa smiled. "I really like the name Avery. It just has a certain strength and character. Besides, it could be used for either a boy or a girl."

Ivy nodded. "I like that. Ethan, Theresa, and Avery Crane. It has a nice ring to it."

"But it will be awhile before Ethan and I expand our family," Theresa added. "I'm still in school, Ethan is working, and we just want to enjoy this time together. We have our whole lives ahead of us."

"That you do," Ivy agreed. "Of course, selfishly I was hoping that the gossips were right and that you and he....." Ivy's voice trailed off when she saw the crestfallen look on her daughter-in-law's face. "I'm sorry, Theresa. That was so thoughtless of me to say."

"But that's what they all say. Otherwise, why would a man like Ethan be with a girl like me?"

"He's with you because he loves you. They'll see that soon enough."

"No, they won't because they don't want to see it. They want to shake their heads and point their fingers. They want to feel superior."

"At yours and everyone else's expense. I'm sorry, Theresa."

Theresa shook her head. "It doesn't matter. I have my husband, a man who truly loves me, and that's all that counts."

"Hold onto that, Theresa. Hold onto it with everything that you are."

Theresa nodded. A silence overcame the two ladies. Finally, Theresa spoke again. "It's getting a little close in here. I'm going out to the garden for a few minutes. When Ethan comes back, would you let him know where I am?"

"Certainly," Ivy replied.

Theresa left, making her way through large French doors that led to the patio and out to the garden.

Ivy watched her go and sighed. "Oh dear. I've done it now."

She stood, looking for Ethan, knowing that he was the one person who could undo what she'd done. Finally seeing him, she waited as he approached.

"Where's Theresa?"

"She stepped outside." Ivy hesitated before continuing, "Ethan, I'm afraid that I might have upset her."

"What happened?"

Ivy replied, "I was asking her about grandchildren, and I mentioned that many people already thought that she was pregnant. I didn't _mean_ to say it. It just came out."

Ethan said nothing as he walked past his mother and headed outside.

"Oh dear," Ivy repeated with a sigh.

"Something wrong, Ivy?" a chipper voice from behind asked.

Ivy took a deep breath to fortify herself before turning around and facing her companion. "Everything is fine, Rebecca."

"That's too bad," Rebecca replied with a smile.

Ivy crossed her arms. "Amazing. You don't even pretend to be polite anymore."

"What's a little animosity between old friends? Besides, we've always been able to see through each other, now haven't we?"

"It's not difficult to see through one so transparent as yourself," Ivy replied as she narrowed her eyes. "Now, if you'll excuse me...."

Rebecca took hold of Ivy's forearm. "Not so fast, Ivy. All this talk of 'seeing' has reminded me of something that I wanted to show you." She removed a rolled-up magazine from her pocketbook.

"Is that a tabloid, Rebecca?" Ivy asked then shook her head. "You know what? It doesn't matter. Whatever it is, I'm not interested."

Rebecca smiled, a gleam in her eye. "Oh, I think you'll be very interested in this."

* * *

"Mother told me that you were out here," Ethan said approaching Theresa. Placing his hand along the small of her back, he could feel her trembling slightly. It nearly killed him to know that she was hurting and that he was powerless to make that hurt go away. "Do you want to go home?"

She shook her head. "I'll be fine, Ethan. Really. Besides, I want to be here to support Genevieve. She's been so good to me."

"I brought you some ginger ale," he offered as he handed her a glass of liquid.

"Thank you," she replied before taking a sip from it. "You are so amazing. I'm so lucky."

"I'm the lucky one. What's so great is that I know it will always be like this between us. Always."

Theresa wrapped her hands around Ethan's long, slender fingers. "You will never be gone from my heart. Sometimes it scares me....these feelings I have inside of me. Sometimes it seems as though our life together is too good to be true. I'm always so afraid that something bad is going to happen."

"What could happen to us now, Theresa? We've faced the worst, and we have no secrets from each other. There's nothing out there that can harm us."

Theresa felt guilt wash over her. There _were _secrets. Secrets that could kill their love. Secrets that could change their lives forever. Secrets that should never see the light of day.

"Let's go for a walk," he suggested.

"Sounds perfect," Theresa agreed as she set her drink down.

Hand in hand, they began their journey down the isolated garden path. A few minutes later, Theresa turned to Ethan and smiled. "I think this was just what I needed. It's such a beautiful night, and it's only made better by having you to share it with."

"Well, Mrs. Crane, there's something else I want to share with you," he said, his tone light.

"And what's that, Mr. Crane?" Theresa asked.

"This," he replied as he gently cupped her face in his hands and leaned down for a kiss. Theresa's lips parted eagerly under his, and she sighed as she felt his tongue sweep through her mouth.

"You take so good," he murmured.

"Like ginger ale?" she giggled.

He rubbed his chin, as though in deep thought. "I'm not sure. Perhaps we'd better try that again so that I can be certain."

"A reasonable suggestion."

"I'm so glad you approve," he said with a smile before pulling her close.

Ethan's lips found hers once again, and soon, they both found themselves breathless.

She strained to get closer to him. They were so close, but not close enough.

Kissing a trail along her jaw-line, he moved downward, nuzzling her neck.

"Ethan," she murmured, "we have to stop. We shouldn't start something that can't be finished--at least here."

He rested his forehead against hers. "When I get you home, I am going to kiss you from head to toe. And then we won't have to worry about stopping."

"Mmmmmm. Something to look forward to." She pulled away from him slightly and looked up at him. She lightly ran the pad of her right thumb across his full lips. "And you know how much I love your lips and what they do to me."

"You are driving me absolutely crazy. You know that?"

"Just getting a head start."

"Well, if you keep it up, we won't make it all the way home, " he stated.

"Good point. I guess we should head back to the party," she said with a pout.

"I guess we should," he replied before stealing another quick kiss from her.

* * *

As Ethan and Theresa approached the house, they noticed that the party was strangely quiet.

"Ethan!" Shay Markham called out. "We've been looking for you everywhere!"

"Why? What's wrong?" Ethan asked, alarm filling his features.

"It's your mother. She passed out."

"Oh my God!" Ethan exclaimed as he and Theresa hurried inside.

A small crowd had formed around Ivy, who lay on the floor. Many others stood in small groups clustered around the room. Theresa noted that Rebecca and Gwen had arrived, neither of them looking too concerned over what had just transpired.

Ethan knelt beside his mother with Theresa close behind.

"Here, Ethan. I found some smelling salts," Genevieve offered handing him a small, wrapped cylinder.

Ethan tore at the outer wrapping and waved the item under Ivy's nose. She came to with a jolt, her eyes wide with fear and disbelief.

"It's over," she whispered. "It's all over."

"What are you talking about?" Ethan asked, concern rising within him. "What's going on, Mother?"

Ivy didn't answer his question. Instead, she grabbed at his jacket. "I love you, Ethan. Everything I've ever done has been for you. Everything......"

"Tell me what is going on," he insisted.

"I'll fill in the blanks for you, Ethan," Gwen offered as she stepped forward.

Ethan stood and helped his mother to her feet, as well.

"Well I wish someone would," Julian spoke up. "Let's put Ivy's spectacle to an end."

Gwen looked to Rebecca, who only nodded. "Oh, this will definitely be an end," Gwen replied cryptically.

"If you know what happened, then spit it out!" Ethan said, his voice growing terse.

"You never were a patient man," Gwen replied looking at her former fiancé. "Though it seems that your quality of impatience used to be infinitely more attractive."

Theresa grabbed on to Ethan's hand. Many thoughts raced through her head. _This can't be happening. This can't be happening. But how? HOW? No. It has to be something else. It has to be!_

Ethan's eyes narrowed. "Gwen, you're making a fool of yourself and ruining Genevieve's party. I always thought you were better than this."

Gwen let Ethan's words wash over her with little effect. She'd come too far, waited too long, to stop now. "I thought a lot of things about you, too, Ethan. Though I've come to find out that many of them aren't true."

Theresa stepped forward and found her voice. "Gwen, don't do this."

"_'Gwen don't do this'_? Well, why the hell not? You know, Theresa, my father always told me that cheaters never prosper. I firmly believe that. It's been something that I've carried through all of these months as I've watched and waited for you to make a mistake. And you, Miss Lopez-Fitzgerald, are most certainly not going to prosper."

A murmur traveled through the crowd.

"Gwen, perhaps you should go lie down....." Genevieve suggested as diplomatically as she could. "I think the wine is starting to go to your head."

Gwen shook her head vehemently. "Oh no. I'm not drunk on anything except vindication."

"Don't you mean vindictiveness?" Ethan shot back. "Come on, Theresa. I'm taking you and Mother home."

Gwen continued, halting Ethan. "You weren't expecting this tonight, were you? I guess that's what makes it all the sweeter. The Chinese have a proverb that I find that to be quite apt in this situation: revenge is a dish best served cold."

"Revenge?" Ethan echoed. "Please, Gwen. The only thing you're managing to do here tonight is make yourself look petty."

"Enough, Gwen! Just tell them!" Rebecca insisted impatiently as she passed a magazine to her daughter.

"I'm getting there, Mother," Gwen said as she carefully stroked the pages of the publication. Her gaze fell on Theresa. "Miss Lopez-Fitzgerald, do wipe the deer-in-the-headlights look off your face. It's not going to save you."

"It's Mrs. Crane, Gwen. I love Theresa, and there is nothing that you could possibly say to change that!"

"You're wrong, Ethan, on two accounts. I am fairly certain that there is something rather vital that I could tell you to change the opinion of your virtuous, honest wife. But I am more than convinced that I can call her identity of Mrs. Crane into question."

"What are you talking about?" Ethan demanded.

Theresa's eyes filled with tears. Everything was crumbling. Then her eyes caught sight of the headline on the magazine.

It was over.

Gwen took a deep breath, feeling satisfaction surge through her. "Theresa can't be called Mrs. Crane because you aren't a Crane, Ethan. And this little gold-digger has known all along."


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N:** I originally wrote this story in 2001 and am now archiving it here. It's classic E/T, so when you imagine Ethan, imagine Travis Schuldt in the role.

Obviously, I do not own the characters. I am merely playing the role of puppeteer.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen: "Unbelievable"**

**December 7, 2005**

I hate her. I absolutely hate her. No amount of apologies, no amount of regret can make up for what she did. She single-handedly destroyed the most important person in my life. And what could I do? Absolutely nothing.

She keeps trying to make amends, but I don't even want to look at her. She brought her daughter to the shop again today. The truth is that it only makes me hate her all the more because she has everything I ever wanted. She has a husband who loves her and whom she loves in return. She has a beautiful child with golden curls. She has a successful career and friends who adore her.

What would I give for those things? To have my husband back? To have our child?

Sure I have friends. Sure I have my career. But when I think about the life I envisioned for myself....the life that _Ethan and I_ envisioned together....this just isn't it.

Is there something wrong with me? Shay keeps telling me that it's time to move on.

Easier said than done.

How can I move on when so many things still hang over my head? How?

Am I weak? I'd like to think that I'm not. After all, doesn't it take more strength to keep faith in something than to simply give up?

Perhaps I'm just a fool. Everyone else has moved on. Even the woman who unleashed this misery, the woman who, at the time, couldn't let go of her bitterness, has moved on.

Why can't I let go of mine?

I mean, I believe her when she says she's sorry. I truly believe her. But you know what? I don't care how guilty she feels. I don't care about giving her absolution. If she wanted to give me a taste of the pain she was feeling, she succeeded.

She won.

I let her win.

Dear God, what is wrong with me?

**December 9, 2005**

Happy birthday to me.

I'm still so young, but I feel so old.

Genevieve and Shay took me out for a celebration dinner. It's bad enough to have to deal with the impending Christmas holidays by myself, but spending another birthday without Ethan makes everything doubly worse.

Truth be told, I didn't really feel like celebrating, but how could I say no? They've both been so good to me.

Oh, but Genevieve wasn't very subtle when she begged off after dinner claiming to be tired, insisting that Shay see me home. No, I know what she's working toward, what she's been working toward for the last year or two. She hopes that he and I will take our relationship beyond friendship.

I have to confess that the thought of being with someone again is appealing. I miss the little things.

The looks.

The laughter.

Holding hands.

Going for walks.

Telling stories.

Flirting.

Wishing on stars together.

Eskimo kisses.

Knowing that someone will always be there.

That last one is a doozy. There's really no way of knowing, is there? I mean, Ethan and I exchanged our vows, made promises to each other, and he's not here.

When Gwen revealed the truth about Ethan's paternity, I was so afraid. The safety net was gone, and I was just waiting for Alistair or Julian to make the move that would take Ethan away from me. I just never imagined that Ethan would go on his own accord.

* * *

**May 5, 2001**

_"Theresa can't be called Mrs. Crane because you aren't a Crane, Ethan. And this little gold-digger has known all along."_

Guests gasped as Gwen's words resonated throughout the Markhams' ballroom.

Ethan grabbed the publication from her hands. "_The National Intruder. _Is _this_ where you got your so-called information? I thought you were smarter than that."

Gwen rolled her eyes. "Please. _You're_ the one who was duped all these years."

Julian stepped forward, his drink, as well as his amusement, set aside and forgotten. "How dare you make such accusations!" he snarled as he snatched the paper from Ethan and tore it to pieces. "Ethan is my son! The blood of my blood, the flesh of my flesh. He's the only good thing to have come from my God-awful marriage to Ivy!"

"For once, Julian and I are in agreement. I _am_ his son," Ethan replied as he looked at Gwen coldly. "So this little game you're playing isn't going to work."

"If you don't believe me, then ask your saintly mother and wife. Actually, you shouldn't have to ask them. The look of utter guilt on their faces should say it all."

Theresa's eyes narrowed as she tried to maintain a resolute outer appearance.

Inside, she wanted to die.

"Do not point the finger at Theresa or my mother, Gwen. If anyone should be feeling guilty here, it's you!"

"Why? For telling the truth? What's that old saying? Ah yes. The truth shall set you free. In this case, from Theresa and Ivy's lies. Just look at them, Ethan. Look at them."

Ethan turned and looked at his mother who clung to Genevieve Markham's arm, mumbling apologies over and over again. His heart sank within him. Something wasn't right. What if there really was something to what Gwen was saying? Mother had been acting so strangely before Gwen made her announcement. Did she know what was coming?

Ethan looked to Theresa, his beautiful Resa. Her lip quivered slightly, and she looked at him with absolute love in her eyes.

"I'll believe anything you tell me, Theresa. Do you know what Gwen is talking about? I am Julian Crane's son, aren't I?"

Theresa made a choice.

She took her husband's hands in her own and squeezed them tightly. "Of course you are Julian's son. This is all a mistake, Ethan. A terrible, terrible misunderstanding."

Gwen groaned. "Back her into a corner, and watch her do what she does best. Tell lies."

Ethan pulled Theresa to him. "I believe my wife over anything you say. No unsubstantiated tabloid report or your poison-spewing mouth would convince me differently!"

Rebecca placed her hand on her daughter's shoulder and addressed Ethan. "Who said anything about the report being unsubstantiated? There's evidence." Her attention shifted to Ethan's mother. "Isn't that right, Ivy? A certain letter to Sam Bennett....."

"You bitch!" Ivy hissed. "How could you do this? How?"

"Gwen and I did nothing, so don't kill the messenger," Rebecca huffed. "The information _somehow_ made its way to the tabloid office. We're just the bearers of bad news." She pulled another copy of the tabloid from her purse. "Since Julian so rudely destroyed the first copy, here's another. I think you'll find everything you need."

Ethan took the magazine from Rebecca, much to Theresa's chagrin.

She turned away. How was this possible? How? The papers had been locked in Ivy Crane's attaché case up until the night all those months ago that she drove to her mother's house and burned them. All the evidence was gone. All of it. How could this be happening?

Julian took a step toward his wife. "Sam Bennett, Ivy? _Sam Bennett_!?!? Of all men, you were whoring around with Sam Bennett?"

"Back off, Julian," Ethan warned as he stepped between his mother and the man he had always believed to be his father.

He opened the tabloid, his eyes scanning the pages. A copy of a letter was printed next to the expose. The words were spelled with a handwriting so familiar on a stationary so familiar.....

"It's true," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Impatiently, Rebecca grabbed the paper from him. "Well, of course it's true!" she huffed.

Gwen stepped forward and placed her hand lightly on Ethan's forearm. "I'm sorry to be the one to break it to you, Ethan. I truly am. But isn't it better to learn the truth from someone who cares about you?"

Ethan jerked away from her. "Right, Gwen. You truly care, which is why you chose to make sure that I heard the truth in so public a way."

"I...I," Gwen began, stunned.

"Just save it," he replied as he reached for Theresa's hand. She wrapped her fingers around his tightly, never wanting to let him go, wanting him to always know that she would be by his side.

He looked back at his mother. "How could you?"

Ivy opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. What could she say to make it better? Words simply were not adequate.

"Perhaps you could use some privacy," Genevieve suggested gently.

"Privacy? Thank you for the offer, Genevieve, but it's a little late for that."

Gwen crossed her arms. "You're directing your anger at the wrong person, Ethan. I told you the _truth_, which is more than I can say for _Theresa_."

"Theresa knows nothing about this. She told me, and I believe her."

Gwen clenched her teeth. Unbelievable. Theresa knew for months about Ethan's paternity, hid the truth in her mother's closet, lied to Ethan about it, and he _believed _her?

"So you didn't know, Theresa?"

"No," Theresa replied quietly.

"What was that?" Gwen asked as she lifted her hand to her ear. "I couldn't quite hear you."

"I said no! I didn't know. H-how could I have?"

"Perhaps because _you_ had the evidence about Ethan's father for all of these months, and _you're _the one who leaked the information to the tabloid."

"That's a lie!" Theresa cried out. "I would never do that to Ethan! I love him! Besides, what would I gain by hurting Ethan like that?"

"Aren't you the one who's been hurt, Theresa? Even after all of these months, no one has accepted you. You are a pariah. You'll never be accepted in Ethan's world. Even now, notice how people look at you with disgust. You knew that would never change. So what did you do? You decided to take Ethan out of his world and bring him into your world. And might I add that you did it in the cruelest way possible!"

"Theresa would never do something like that, Gwen. Not only would she not do that, she couldn't! She didn't know...."

Theresa looked at Ethan, tears in her eyes. Her husband was an amazing man. Here he was facing one of the worst, if not _the_ worst, moments of his life, and yet he was spending his energy blindly defending her instead of feeling sorry for himself. _Defending her! _A woman who hadn't been completely truthful, no matter what her intentions were.

She squeezed his hand.

Gwen boiled over. "Like hell she didn't know! She kept the information in her living room closet, for godsakes! She knew, Ethan! She knew! She's not this innocent that you make her out to be!"

Ethan's eyes narrowed. "Why would you mention Theresa's living room closet, unless _you_....." His voice trailed off. "My God, you're the one who did this to me!"

Gwen's heart sank as she realized the information that she had foolishly divulged had sealed her fate with Ethan. Regardless of how bad Theresa would look in Ethan's eyes, she would always look ten times worse.

It was over.

Truly over.

"I can explain," she began in earnest.

"There are no explanations, Gwen! All of those years of friendship meant nothing to you."

"Friendship, Ethan? _Friendship?_ We were more than friends until Theresa came into the picture batting her eyelashes."

"We were friends before we became involved, Gwen. Friends above all else. Isn't that what we always said? My God, how could you do this? How?"

"I'm not a monster. Just let me explain...."

But Ethan wasn't hearing Gwen's explanation. He was looking down into the tear-filled eyes of his wife. His own eyes began to water. "She did this to me, but you....you _knew_."

"How could I tell you? _How_?" Theresa whispered.

"So because telling the truth would be difficult, you decided to perpetuate my mother's lie?"

"It wasn't Theresa's secret to tell, Ethan," Ivy interjected with little more than a sigh.

"But I asked you for the truth, Theresa. I gave you my trust. And what did you do? You lied to me. Over and over. It makes me wonder what else you've lied about."

"Ethan, _please_."

"Do I even know you?"

Ethan pulled his hand away from hers.

* * *

I had been so afraid that I wouldn't see Ethan again. He left the party....left us all....devastated, but I did see him again.

Genevieve tended to Ivy, refusing to allow Julian access to her.

I watched Julian closely, fearful of what his next step would be. Were Ethan and I even safe anymore? But when Julian's eyes met mine, I saw that they were filled with sadness. This was not a man intent on planning revenge. This was a man who seemed to genuinely ache for the son he had irretrievably lost.

I still remember scanning the room, feeling all the glares upon me. Of course, I wasn't the only one of the receiving end of cold looks. In Gwen's attempt to make me look bad, she's done a number on herself as well.

Yet what she had done hurt so much. I'm not sure how I kept from falling apart, but I didn't. How could I give any of them the satisfaction of seeing me do what I most wanted to do? No, I would let them see me curl up and cry.

But I was so angry.

I could have torn her apart, given the opportunity.

But there was none.

Shay insisted that Gwen and Rebecca leave.

He was a good friend to me that night, and looking back, that was when the friendship we have today formed its foundation. Sure we'd worked together for several months. We were acquaintances, but we'd never really been friends until that point.

He took me home, and he was so considerate. So concerned. Tender, actually.

But I needed to be by myself, to sort everything out as I waited for Ethan to return.

I waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I began to feel sick as I paced nervously.

And then he was back.

* * *

Theresa threw her arms around Ethan as he walked through the door. The tears she'd been bottling up were finally released.

Ethan was hesitant to embrace her. Everything had changed in the span of a few hours. Everything.

But he did embrace her. She still felt the same in his arms. Perhaps there were some things that hadn't changed, after all.

"I've been so worried about you," Theresa whispered into his ear during their embrace.

Ethan gently pulled away from her, angry for letting himself fall into her trap. It would be so easy to listen to her words of endearment, to find comfort in her arms, but how could he trust her genuineness?

"I'm fine," he insisted, a wall of his own making being placed between them.

Theresa swallowed hard, sensing Ethan's hurt and anger. She expected nothing less. "Please, Ethan. Be angry at me all that you need to, but don't shut me out."

"And what do you propose I do, Theresa? All of my life, I've thought myself to be one thing, but I'm another. And for as long as I've known you, I've thought _you _to be one thing, but it turned out you're another, as well."

"We are still the same people, Ethan. _We are_!" Theresa insisted. She reached out and rested her hand on his chest. "Do you remember the day that you placed my hand over your heart? Do you remember what you told me? You said, 'my heart beats only for you.' Those emotions were real. Those were _your _emotions, Ethan. Not the person the world sees as Ethan Crane! They were an expression of love from the man who means everything to me."

She took his hand and placed it over her chest. "And I tell you now what you told me all of those months ago. My heart beats only for you, Ethan."

His own heart lurched as he saw the love mingled with tears shining in her eyes. Touching her face, he replied, "I believe you when you say you love me. But it's hard to believe much else."

"That's a start, isn't it?" she asked hopefully.

"A start," he affirmed.

"I do love you, Ethan. So, so much."

"Show me, Theresa," he said huskily. "Show me."

Her fingers quickly unbuttoned his shirt, her hands running along his bare flesh. She stood on her tiptoes, kissing his tears away, tears he hadn't even realized were there.

"I want to make it all go away, Ethan. All of it."

He reached behind her, finding the zipper of her dress, and watched, mesmerized, as it fell to a puddle at her feet.

Wordlessly, he picked her, carrying her into the bedroom.

And for a few beautiful moments, they found solace in each other's sweet caresses.

* * *

I woke up the next morning, only to find Ethan was not by my side. I tried not to panic.

I soon found that he left a note. Short. To the point.

He was going away for a day or two to sort matters out.

Sure enough, as I looked in the hall closet, I saw that his overnight bag was gone, but I was relieved to find the large suitcases were still there.

_A day or two._

It's been over four years.


	16. Chapter 15

**Disclaimer:** I think we've covered that I don't own _Passions_ or the _Passions_ characters. I'm just borrowing them for a spell.

**Chapter Fifteen: "Cold Feet"**

_December 22, 2005_

When did things change between Shay and me? I can't be certain, but I feel like I'm losing one of my best friends. This underlying tension is driving me crazy. It's not the good kind of tension. It's just....just uncomfortable.

Today at work, he brought in the latest financial reports to my office to discuss them, but somehow we got into the stupidest argument. I think it was about the background color of the latest ad campaign. Though, come to think of it, that probably wasn't the real issue, anyway.

Something is eating him up inside, and he just takes it out on me.

Christmas is coming soon. Just a few days away.

If I were still the dreamer that I used to be, I might actually believe that Ethan would somehow show up. But I gave up on wishing on stars and believing in fate a long time ago. I hurt Ethan in the worst way possible, and it looks more and more like he isn't ever going to come back to me.

How strange to write those words.

Shouldn't I continue to believe in him?

Shouldn't I continue to pray for his return?

Shouldn't I find a shooting star to wish upon?

When I was a little girl, I believed in fate, almost like it was a force of nature. The stars were my constant companions and the granters of wishes. The possibilities were endless, and everything was before me. All I had to do was wish.

As if any of that does any good.

Maybe it is time to face facts that he is gone and that he's not coming back. He's been gone for over four years now and has probably built a life for himself elsewhere. And one thing that I've learned is that if a person doesn't want to be found, they'll find ways to make sure that it doesn't happen.

Does he have another family now? I think back to all the dreams we shared together. Has he made those dreams come true with another woman?

_No._

He wouldn't just leave like that! No, there has to be something else. Some other reason that he has stayed away all this time.

At first I feared the worst. I was terrified that something had happened to him, that somehow Alistair and Julian were responsible for his disappearance.

Yet when I saw Julian Crane shortly after Ethan left, I knew I was wrong. The man was devastated. He wanted his old life back and he wanted the man he had believed to be his son back in it. Perhaps I'm naive, but I don't think Julian was deceiving me.

After speaking with him, I felt something for Julian Crane that I never thought I would feel. I felt pity. Can you believe it? Pity for a man who caused my family so much pain. But I realized that perhaps, just perhaps, he did have a conscience and a heart. I could never forgive him for what he did, but I suppose seeing him did help me to have a better understanding of him.

Ivy moved out of the mansion. I'm not sure if it's because she finally garnered her courage to leave behind her bad situation or if she was forced to do so. I don't know because she wouldn't speak to me.

Our relationship cooled overnight, and I know that she was hurt so badly by everything that happened. I miss her.

Chief Bennett and his family were also stunned by Gwen's revelation. Sam came to Ethan's and my house the day after the news came out, but of course, Ethan wasn't here. I don't think they've ever had the chance to speak to one another as father and son.

He was angry with Ivy for keeping Ethan's paternity a secret for so many years. I could also tell that he was disappointed that I'd not told him. But how could I have done so? Not only was it not my place, but I was so scared of what Alistair and Julian would do if they ever found out. Whether those fears were justified or not, they held me captive as fears so often do to a person.

Mama told me that a great strain was placed on the Bennett marriage, but by looking at them now, they seem to have healed. Jessica and Reese had a baby a few weeks ago, and I've seen Sam and Grace around town showing the little darling off with obvious pride. Their first grandchild.

All of our lives were turned upside down by the events that transpired at Genevieve Markham's party. Even after all this time, things aren't what I would call normal.

But we all continue.

We wear our public faces, betraying little of the tumult we feel.

I've only let Genevieve and Shay into that place I've kept hidden from so many people. In a world of change, they've been my constants. But even they, as close as we are, don't know everything.

I just wish things weren't so strained between Shay and me right now. What happened?

* * *

Theresa set her journal on the coffee table as she heard the knock on her door. Walking to the door, she peered through the peephole before opening her front door.

Shay stood on the porch, poinsettia in hand. "I brought a peace offering," he offered.

"It's very nice. Thank you," she replied taking the plant from his hands and setting it on a stand near the window.

"May I come in?" he asked.

"Of course."

He closed the door behind him blocking out the cold air. "It feels good in here. Winter is definitely making its presence known."

"It's the first official day, isn't it?" she commented casually. "I'm glad. That means the days will start getting longer again. There's nothing so terrible as it being dark at 4:45 in the afternoon. I much prefer..."

"Theresa--" he interrupted.

"I was rambling, wasn't I?" she asked with a nervous smile.

"When did things get so awkward between us?" he asked as he removed his gloves.

"I-I don't know. But I really don't like it. You've been such a dear friend to me, Shay. I wouldn't want anything to spoil our friendship."

Theresa studied Shay's handsome features closely. Was that disappointment that flickered across his face?

"Me either. You mean the world to me, Theresa. I know I don't always show it, but I'm never sure of how much I can and can't show you."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"I love you, Theresa."

She took his hands. "I love you, too, Shay. You and Genevieve have been...."

"No. You don't understand! I'm _in_ love with you." The words came tumbling out. "There. I said it."

Theresa struggled for the right words to say. There were so many reasons that this could never be. "Shay, I'm married."

He shook his head. "Right. To a man who abandoned you four years ago and hasn't had the decency to contact you in all that time."

She turned away from him, tears stinging her eyes.

He muttered a curse before placing his hands on her shoulders. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. You just deserve so much better."

She took a deep breath before facing him. "I'm not ready to give up yet."

"And neither am I," Shay replied with a twinkle in his eye. "I want us to spend Christmas together."

"I'm sure we'll get together over the holidays."

"You don't understand, Theresa. I want to take you away from all of this. I want us to make new memories together. No ghosts from the past. No regrets. Just two people who care about each other. And we'll let whatever happens just happen."

"You are making a lot of assumptions, Shay."

"Not too many. I remember how you responded when I kissed you. There was a spark between us, Theresa. An amazing spark. Who's to say that something wouldn't happen?"

"Let's just slow down, Shay. I feel like we've skipped a few steps here. You are my friend. Probably my best friend. But I am a married woman. I _love_ my _husband_. I want him back in my life. Knowing that, what kind of life would you and I have together?"

"A good one, Theresa. A very good one."

Without another word, Shay pulled Theresa close to him, his lips descending on hers. Theresa knew that she should pull away, that she shouldn't let the kiss continue, and that she shouldn't give Shay hope. Yet she couldn't pull away. To be close to someone again felt so good. So amazingly good. To know that someone desired her, that someone loved her, helped to ease some of the heaviness of her heart.

Her mind was in a perfect haze until a few minutes later when she found herself on the couch with him on top of her. His hands were moving up her legs, gently bringing her skirt up.

Theresa pushed his hands away. "This is moving too fast," she protested.

"I just want you so badly," he breathed against her lips.

"This....this can't happen between us, Shay," she replied pulling away from him. "It just isn't right."

He sat up and ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "What game are we playing here, Theresa?"

"I'm...I'm not trying to play a game with you. I'm really not. I don't think that either of us is"

"I love you, Theresa."

She swallowed hard. "And I'm in love with someone else," she said quietly.

"I guess that's all there is to say," he replied before standing up and heading for the door. He reached for the doorknob before turning around. "You know, that isn't all. It makes me absolutely sick to see you pining away for a man who has never loved you the way that you love him. You would give up your own happiness for him. Hell, you _have_ given up your own happiness for him. But he hasn't even given you the common courtesy of a phone call!"

"I hurt him so badly, Shay."

"So you punish yourself over and over? Where's the sense in that? Look, when I married Elizabeth, I was in love with her. But things fell apart, partly by my doing, and partly by hers. But I'm not going to dwell on that. I can't afford to dwell on that, not when there are so many wonderful things in life left to experience."

Her eyes narrowed. "And so in your expert opinion, Dr. Markham, you think I'm _punishing_ myself?"

"Aren't you, T?"

"The only thing I'm doing is not giving up on my husband."

He shook his head. "When are you going to realize that he's not coming back? Ethan Crane does not deserve your loyalty or your love!"

"Maybe not. But he has it."

Wordlessly, Shay opened the door and walked out.

Theresa brushed away the tears she hadn't even realized had fallen down her cheeks. "When did things get so messed up?"

She looked around the living room, still so many reminders of Ethan present. Yet the place felt empty without him.

Her eyes focused on the fireplace, the flames within burning steadily. Slowly, she walked toward the hearth before sitting upon it and letting the fire warm her. Memories flooded her mind.

They'd been so happy there. Their first night in their new house had been spent in front of the fire, much as they'd spent the night in front of the fire in the Crane Cabin the year before that. Marshmallows, hot cocoa, and laughter. What a beautiful combination.

Theresa remembered the feelings of giddiness and joy all too well. At the time, they'd been her constant companions.

*****

_"I've never seen someone so tiny put away so much food," Ethan laughed as he watched his wife finish the last slice of pizza._

_The two sat on the floor in front the fire. The house was not yet furnished, nor had the electricity been turned on. Yet Theresa had insisted that now the house was officially theirs, she didn't want to spend another night in the hotel suite. Ethan agreed, unable to deny his wife anything. He was just relieved that the water had been turned on so that they wouldn't be completely roughing it. _

_Theresa wiped her fingers on the paper napkin from the pizza restaurant before placing it in the empty box. "Jealous, Mr. Crane?"_

_"Maybe a little."_

_"You're forgetting that I grew up with brothers. I can definitely put away the food. If I tell you something, do you promise not to get grossed out?"_

_"It can't be any worse than the slime story from boarding school."_

_Theresa giggled slightly. "You were an absolute stinker! But no, I don't think anything could be as bad as that. Here goes. When I was a little girl, Miguel and I used to have these contests to see who could eat the most pizza. One day, we decided to take it a step further. Not only would we stuff ourselves, but we dared the other to twirl around right after eating."_

_Ethan groaned. "I can see where this is going."_

_Theresa laughed. "It drove Mama nuts to not say anything, but I guess she figured that we'd learn our lessons. And we did. The hard way. I wouldn't even touch pizza for the longest time after that."_

_"I can see you've gotten over your qualms. What I don't see is where you managed to put all of it," he replied as he ran his hand under her sweater and touched her flat belly._

_"Oh, very smooth," she purred. "But I've got to eat lots so that I can keep up my strength." She moved closer to him, straddling his lap._

_He smiled as he felt her arms wind themselves around his neck. "Really? And just what have you been doing to exert all of your strength?"_

_She languorously ran her fingers through his sandy hair. "I've been doing quite a bit of.......studying."_

_His hands slipped further up her sweater. Her eyes fluttered slightly at the sensations he was creating within her body as he teased her breasts. _

_"And just what have you been studying?"_

_Theresa smiled. "History. I have a test next week." _

_She laughed at the exasperated look on his life._

_"The perils of having a wife in college," he said with a smile. "But I'm so proud of you, Theresa. You know that, don't you?"_

_She sighed contentedly. "You make me feel so special. I know your friends must tease you a little bit, though. The attorney and the undergrad. What a pair we make."_

_"But don't you realize that you're far ahead of where I was when I was your age? You're already getting your start in the fashion industry. Genevieve Markham can't stop bragging on you. Shay seems impressed, too."_

_"Anything that helps business makes Shay happy," Theresa commented wryly._

_"But you've been a definite boost for business. How many other people--regardless of their age or experience---can honestly say that they've been able to accomplish what you've accomplished in so short a time?"_

_Theresa placed a lingering kiss on Ethan's lips. "It means the world to me to have you believe in me the way you do."_

_"I'll never stop believing in you, Resa."_

_"And I'll never stop believing in you, Ethan."_

_"This love I feel for you is for forever. You know that, don't you?"_

_"Yes, Ethan. I know." She lifted her body slightly before lowering herself again. _

_He drew in a sudden breath. "Theresa, you're making me want you so badly."_

_She smiled at him conspiratively before whispering in his ear, "Yes, I know that, too, because you keep teaching me all of these wonderful new things."_

_Her hands moved to his waist as she tugged at the hem of the sweater he wore. He lifted his arms as she pulled it over his head._

_Her gaze focused on his eyes and then moved downward. She loved to look at his body, loved to touch it. _

_Her hands rested on his shoulders before sliding down to his pecs. Her thumbs found his tiny male nipples and darted across them. She watched the pleasure he felt as it showed so obviously on his face. An even more obvious sign of his pleasure was the growing hardness she felt pressed against her middle. Even through the clothes they wore, she could feel him._

_"So what do you think we should do tonight, Mrs. Crane?"_

_She traced the outline of his lips with her tongue. "I'm sure we can find _some_ way to amuse ourselves."_

_****_

_She wasn't sure when either of them had fallen asleep, but it seemed that they had. She propped her head on her elbow and watched Ethan, the slight movement of his eyelids, and the hint of a smile on his sleeping face. _

_"I wonder what you're dreaming about," she whispered before placing the tiniest of kisses on the corner of his mouth._

_Quietly and with little movement, she pushed the blanket away and came to her feet. Glancing around the room still lit by the glowing embers of the fire, she found what she was looking for: Ethan's robe. _

_She pulled it around her body before opening and going through the French doors on the opposite side of the living room that led to the patio. Met by a wall of cold air, she pulled the robe around herself more tightly. She smiled when she smelled her husband's scent._

_"Thank you, God," she whispered to the night sky._

_Her life was wonderful. So perfect. _

_"I was wondering where you'd gone," a voice from behind said._

_Theresa turned around and saw Ethan wrapped in a blanket. She couldn't stop the smile from crossing her features. "You were sleeping and I felt the night beckoning to me."_

_He walked behind her, opening his blanket, and wrapping them both within its softness and warmth. Theresa leaned back, loving the feeling of being enveloped in his strong arms. "Beckoning, eh?" he asked as rested his chin on her shoulder, their faces cheek to cheek. _

_"It's beautiful, isn't it, Ethan? A million stars are out tonight."_

_"My little dreamer," he murmured. "A million wishes to go along with a million stars."_

_"I only need one wish and one star," Theresa replied. _

_"And what is that wish, Resa?"_

_She turned around, wrapping her arms around his waist under the blanket. "That we'll always find our way."_

_"We will," he promised. "Of course, I'm also hoping that we'll soon find our way inside," he added with a chuckle._

_"It _is_ cold out here, isn't it?"_

_"Positively frigid."_

_She giggled. "I might as well warn you that I intend to get you under the covers and freeze you with my cold feet."_

_He kissed the tip of her cold nose. "One of the things I love most about you is your honesty."_

________

_"....your honesty."_

Theresa shook her head, willing Ethan's words to leave her. "My honesty. Yes, aren't I just the paragon of virtue? I lied to Ethan about his paternity when hearing the news from me would have made it so much less painful. I allowed another man to kiss and touch me tonight."

She lifted her fingers to her lips. It had been nice to be kissed. She wouldn't deny that. But it was nothing like kissing Ethan. Nothing at all.

She headed toward the master bedroom's adjoining bathroom. Reaching inside the shower, she turned on the water, allowing it to warm.

Quickly, she removed her clothes before stepping into the shower, allowing the water to wash over her. She lathered her body with soap, closing her eyes as the steady stream of water washed away the suds. She only wished the water could wash away the guilt as easily as it washed away the soap.

A few minutes later, with a towel wrapped around her head and another wrapped around her body, she made her way into the bedroom. Walking toward her closet, she stopped as she came to his instead. Slowly, she opened the door, something she'd not done in a long time, and flipped the light switch.

His robe hung inside.

She removed it from its hanger, and put it on. Though much too large for her, she felt as though it was simply perfect. Something of Ethan's. Something to hold on to.

Licking her lips, she walked back through the living room and out the French doors into the cold winter air. The night sky was clear. The million stars that once shone on them now shone on her alone.

"I made a wish almost five years ago that you and I would always find our way, Ethan. I still wish it."

She sat on a cold, metal patio chair, shivering as she felt its coolness through the robe. Pulling her knees to her chest, she felt tears sting her eyes. "Please come back....." She buried her face in her hands.

"Your feet are going to get cold."

"They already are," she sniffed.

Then it hit her.

_That voice._

She lifted her head before turning around.

"Ethan......"


	17. Chapter 16

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Passions, its characters, etc. I'm just playing in someone else's sandbox for a little while.

**Chapter Sixteen: "Confusion"**

Was it merely a moment?

Was it an eternity?

Was her world tilting on its axis?

Or was her world merely setting itself straight?

Theresa couldn't be sure. It felt like someone else's life. That was all she knew.

Yes, it was like watching someone else.

No, that _wasn't_ it! It wasn't like watching someone else. It was much like being someone else---someone she once knew--someone she hadn't known in years.

_Herself._

Theresa watched in disbelief as Ethan casually knelt in front of her patio chair and began rubbing her tiny cold feet between his palms. If not for the warmth of the contact she felt, she would have sworn that she was imagining the whole episode. After all, wasn't she once known for her rather vivid imagination?

No. No. No. She'd had vivid dreams before. This was just one of those dreams. Her mind warred with her heart, willing her hopes to stay in check.

Closing her eyes tightly, she took a deep breath, all but certain that once she opened them again, she would find herself alone. Mentally she began counting to ten. She hadn't reached five before she felt herself being drawn into his arms and scooped up as though she was no more a burden than carrying a child.

Her eyes flew open as he turned the handle of one of the French doors leading into the house. They were met with a wall of heat. He closed the door behind them before carrying her into the living room and near the fireplace.

"We need to get you warmed up," Ethan said with a smile on his face.

His smile warmed her more than anything else could. He was _beautifu_l. So unabashedly beautiful, but so blissfully unaware of the effects his presence had on her.

He was her idea of perfection . He was her downfall.

He was her savior. He was the harbinger of her damnation.

He was her lover. He was her husband.

And he'd abandoned her. Left. Gone. No words spoken. No real good-byes. Just gone.

Warmth escaped Theresa, leaving only coldness in its place once again.

"Why were you outside with wet hair and only my bathrobe on, anyway?" He spoke patiently. Waited patiently.

She couldn't form the words. She didn't trust herself to speak.

A chill passed through him at the hardened expression in the eyes he'd always thought to be exquisite. "I guess you just didn't expect it to be that cold outside. Certainly not this time of the year, at least."

Theresa said nothing. She didn't know what to think or what to feel. This was what she'd wanted for so long, what she'd prayed for. She'd had plenty of time to paint a picture in her mind of Ethan's return.

Yet the picture in her mind was nothing like the reality. There was no certainty; only confusion.

Part of her wanted to laugh.

Part of her wanted to cry.

Part of her wanted to kiss him with everything that was in her.

Part of her wanted to tell him to go to hell and show him the door.

She loved him, but she hated him.

He completed her, but he had destroyed her.

Ethan touched her face, forcing her to focus on him. She looked into his crystal blue eyes, eyes shining with concern and love. He was trying to melt her. Of that, she had no doubt.

"Theresa, what's wrong?"

She managed to choke out words. "Are you real?"

"You can pinch me and find out," he teased as he took her hand in his own. He was surprised at how limp her hand felt in his as he examined her long fingernails. "On second thought, I'm not that much of a glutton for punishment."

"But I am."

"You're what?" he asked confused.

"A glutton for punishment. Shay was right. I've been punishing myself over what happened with you for far too long."

A cloud formed over Ethan's features. "Since when did you and Shay Markham become such good friends?"

"We've had plenty of time to cultivate a friendship," she replied pulling her hand away from Ethan's.

Ethan turned away from her, shaking his head. "I can't believe it! Shay knew, too? What else haven't you told me, Theresa?"

"Oh, that's rich, Ethan. You've been home for what? About five minutes? And now you're making demands? Listen to me, and listen carefully. When you walked out that door, you threw away your rights where I'm concerned."

He spun around to face her. "So that's what this is about. That's why you were giving me the silent treatment and why you're so hostile now. Theresa, I left you a note. After everything that happened, I thought you would understand why I needed some time to sort things out."

"Time...." Theresa repeated numbly. "Well, it seems that time has been kind to you, Ethan. You look just as I remember you. Certainly none the worse for the wear. I assume you've worked through your difficulties."

"Actually, I came back so that we could work through them together, Theresa. These aren't just my difficulties; they're _our_ difficulties. You kept something from me, something monumental, after we promised we'd never keep anything from each other. I love you so much, but there's something wrong with us. Something has been broken, and we need to fix it."

"Broken doesn't even begin to cover it. You _shattered_ me, Ethan! And there you stand talking about broken trust. How deliciously ironic. It's been a long time, and I've done a lot of thinking about this moment and what it would be like, but I believe this little reunion falls under the guise of be careful of what you wish for."

Ethan swallowed hard. His Theresa. His beautiful Resa was so embittered. How could this have happened so suddenly? And how could he have done this to her? She was right; he'd shattered her. But he never entertained the notion that his leaving would have such an impact on her, especially after he had promised he would return soon.

And he'd kept his promise!

Confusion marred Ethan's features, just as pain marred Theresa's.

"Resa, I feel like we're on completely different pages."

"Then catch me up, Ethan. Give me something to hold onto. You wrote in your note that you needed some time to think through everything that had happened. Where did you go?"

"I spent the day driving. Up the coast, mostly. You know that's always offered clarity to me."

"Driving?" she asked in disbelief. "And that's it?"

"What else would I have done?" Ethan asked. "There is no way that I would ever turn my back on what we have! I love you so much. When I said my vows...for better or for worse...I meant them. As upset as I was with you last night, we will get through this because we have each other."

"L-last night?" Theresa repeated. Her heart was pounding so hard she could feel it in her head. "Last night?!?!?"

"I know. Gwen's bombshell took me completely by surprise, too. And I know that if you'd had any idea that she was going to do what she did, you would have told me about my mother and Sam Bennett a long time ago."

"Back up, Ethan. Last night?"

"The party--last night."

"Ethan, the party wasn't last night!"

"Of course, it was, Theresa. I think I should know; it wasn't exactly one of the best moments of my life," he commented wryly.

Theresa took a deep breath before taking his hand. "Ethan, the party was four and a half years ago. You've been gone...without a word....without a trace....for four and half years!"


	18. Chapter 17

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill. I don't own _Passions._

**Chapter Seventeen: A New Beginning**

_Theresa took a deep breath before taking his hand. "Ethan, the party was four and a half years ago. You've been gone...without a word....without a trace....for four and half years!"_

Ethan chuckled softly before planting an impromptu kiss on Theresa's forehead. "I know you're angry with me, but I must say that it's always a good sign when you start teasing me."

Theresa's lips trembled. Her poor, beautiful Ethan. Something had happened to him. Something that she couldn't even begin to understand.

Her heart melted.

All the anger she felt toward him fell like a puddle to the floor, seeping away, hidden.

But the tears would not remain hidden. Her eyes filled with them, her heart breaking for him, for her, for them.

Four and a half years.

_Gone. _

Four and a half years of yearning.

Four and a half years of crying.

Four and a half years of dreaming.

Four and a half years--and he didn't even know it.

"Theresa, why are you looking at me like that?" Ethan asked as he gently cradled her face with his hands.

Tears spilled over, wetting his hands.

"Shhhhh, baby. Shhhhhh." Ever so softly, he kissed her tears away.

Theresa felt herself being drawn into his arms, and she didn't fight it. She clung to him desperately, inhaling his familiar scent. Never again would she let go. Never.

"I love you, Ethan," she whispered hoarsely. Her hands slipped under the lightweight jacket he wore, her arms wrapping themselves tightly around his waist. "You feel so good."

He stroked her still-damp hair, trying as best he could to comfort her, though not fully understanding her desperate sadness. All he knew was that he wanted to ease her pain, to make her stop hurting. He wanted to see the brilliant light in her eyes again.

His heart ached _for_ her.

"I love you, too, Theresa. And I'll never leave you again---not even for one day. This love I feel for you, this amazing love we share, can't be torn apart by Gwen or those ridiculous tabloids," he replied. Taking a deep breath, he continued, "I won't lie to you. I wish I'd heard the news about my mother and Sam Bennett from my mother--or from you, but I understand that you kept my mother's secret because you didn't want to hurt me and you didn't want to break the tentative stalemate with my so-called family."

"I was so afraid, Ethan. _So afraid_."

Her voice was tiny; so tiny, it made his heart clench.

"I firmly believe that if Alistair was going to do anything with this news, he would have done so already. My grandfa--, I mean, Alistair, is not a man who waits. He's a man of action."

Theresa swallowed hard. No, Alistair Crane definitely was a man of action. What if he'd already taken action? What if Ethan's disappearance and re-emergence was somehow related to Alistair Crane's misdeeds?

"He _is_ a man of action," Theresa agreed. _And perhaps he's already acted. _"Ethan, how much do you remember about the last time you saw Alistair?"

Ethan pulled away from her slightly, meeting her earnest brown eyes. "That's a strange question, Theresa."

"Not so strange," she replied quietly.

"Theresa, I know something is going on with you! Please open up to me."

"Ethan, it's _so_ important that you answer my question. I need to know. How much do you remember about the last time you saw him?"

"Everything, Theresa. _Everything_. I put him on notice, cut a deal with him, and then cut him out of my life. You know all of that." He rubbed his forehead. "Why would you ask whether I _remember_ something?"

Theresa willed the new tears to go away. She needed to be strong, strong for what she had to do, strong for Ethan. She traced her fingertips over his lips before planting a tender kiss upon them. "I love you so much, Ethan." Trying to smile at him with reassurance, she added. "Come sit with me in front of the fire."

She turned to walk toward the warmth and felt his arms encircle her waist from the back. She leaned into him, and the two continued across the room.

Settling on the floor, she insisted on facing him. He had to know--had to understand--that she wasn't teasing him and that she wasn't mistaken. What she was about to tell him was far too important for any mistakes or misunderstandings. He hadn't believed her before, but he had to believe her now.

"Ethan, what did you notice about the weather outside?"

He frowned. What did this have to do with anything?

She noticed his hesitation, but prompted him to answer the question . "Please. Just humor me."

He raised an eyebrow. "Well, it's unusually cold outside for May. Then again, this is Harmony. Strange things always seem to happen here."

She took his hands in her own; their finger intertwined. "Ethan, I was so hurt by your being gone, but it wasn't because you'd only been gone one day. It was because you were gone for four and a half years."

Theresa could see the disbelief in his features.

"Theresa---" he began.

She shook her head. "Look at the walls, Ethan. The wallpaper is gone, the same wallpaper you cursed at until you managed to hang it. Sweetie, in the next room is a Christmas tree with presents underneath it. On the drafting table in the spare bedroom are designs for my 2006 spring line. On the kitchen wall next to the refrigerator is a calendar. It says December 2005."

He pulled away from her and sprang up, turning away. "I don't believe it," he said shaking his head.

She stood, leaning her head against his back. "Ethan, I wouldn't lie. Not about this!"

"Resa, what you're saying...it isn't possible! I would never leave you for that long, and I sure as hell wouldn't have forgotten about it!"

He began pacing, a nervous habit of his. Some things never changed.

"I graduated from college about a year and a half ago. With honors, actually. Soon after, Shay and I became business partners, and with Genevieve's blessing, we launched my fashion line."

He waved his hand in dismissal. "I don't believe any of this. It just isn't possible. None of this is real!"

"For the last four and a half years, I have loved you, hated you, cursed you, praised you, and yearned for you! I assure you, Ethan, it's been _very_ real for me."

The verity of Theresa's words hit Ethan like a ton of bricks. He'd broken her heart, and he couldn't even remember having done it. She'd spent all those years alone, wondering about him, thinking the worst, but hoping for the best.

Yes, he'd shattered her. And now he understood.

Tears clouded his eyes.

He didn't see her move, but he felt her close to him, reaching out to him, then holding onto him. "I'm sorry, Resa."

The words didn't seem adequate. No words could adequately express what he felt. No words at all.

"Whatever happened--it's not your fault, Ethan. I know that now."

"I never would have left that day if I'd known."

"I know that, too," she replied with certainty. "Sweetie, let me go get dressed. We'll go to the hospital, get you checked out, and hopefully get some answers. Okay?"

She turned to walk toward the bedroom to change, but he caught her hand before she got out of reach.

"No doctors, Theresa. Not tonight. The only thing I need is to hold you in my arms, to feel you next to me."

Theresa hesitated.

Ethan insisted. "Tomorrow, Theresa. Not tonight."

Theresa slowly nodded. She wanted the same as he did, more than anything else in the world.

He reached for the bathrobe's cloth belt that she had cinched around her waist, pulling it slightly until the robe fell open.

He drank in the sight of her and sucked in a breath. "You're so beautiful," he whispered intimately.

Theresa pushed the jacket off Ethan's shoulders before she moved to the buttons on his shirt. "So are you..."

______

Ethan's fingers lightly traced her collarbone. She looked so beautiful as she slept, almost like an angel.

_No, not like an angel_, he amended as he remembered the previous night. No angel would have done the things they did.

A small smile rested on Theresa's lips. Was she dreaming of him? he wondered.

He knew that he'd dreamed of her last night. From the first moment they clashed at the carnival to that fateful day in the meadow when he'd first confessed his feelings....all of it played for him as he slept. Their wedding, their tender touches, their laughter, their plans for the future....all of it was laid before him.

And he knew that anything was possible.

He'd had another dream, one that hadn't involved Theresa. His name was being called. It was simple; very simple, in fact. Yet it bothered him.

He shook it off as he watched her smile widen, though her eyes remained closed.

"Just a little bit lower," she spoke.

"You're awake," he said before planting a tender kiss on his lips.

"Mmmmm," she replied rolling onto her side. "I was having the most amazing dreams, and you were in them."

"I was?" he asked feigning surprise.

She reached out and touched the tiny patch of dark-blonde hair on his chest. "You certainly were."

His hands ran up her bare thighs. "Did this dream involve a set of stairs?"

She looked at him through slightly veiled lids before closing her eyes again. "Oh yes...."

"And did this dream involve the wall in the hallway?"

"Mmmmmhmmmmm....you know me so well."

His fingers dipped into her folds, and he watched as pleasure filled her features. "And did this dream involve anything else?"

She nodded. "There was also a certain bed and a very wonderful morning spent in it...."

"And just what were we doing in this bed?" he asked moving closer to her.

"Let me show you," she replied as she opened her eyes.

As she pulled him into a mind-numbing kiss, he couldn't help but think that of all ways to spend the morning, this was absolutely the best.

* * *

Theresa propped her chin on Ethan's chest, glancing at the clock. "It's almost lunch time," she groaned. "Shay is going to be furious," she commented as she lay her head down once again on his chest.

Ethan laughed. "I notice that you're not exactly jumping up and running out of here."

"I'd much rather be here with you," she sniffed.

"The feeling is mutual," Ethan replied as he ran his fingers down her small of her back.

She clung to him all the more tightly, suppressing a yawn. "I'm just surprised that he's not been calling."

"He probably has," Ethan replied, "but I think we knocked the phone off the hook some time ago."

She sighed. "I halfway expect him to come charging in here."

Ethan frowned. "He's your business partner, Theresa. He doesn't own you."

"But he thinks he does."

"Then why be in business with a man like that?"

Theresa rolled over on her back. "He's not a tyrant, Ethan. He's just spoiled. In fact, he reminds me a little bit of a certain young man I once spilled paint on...only Shay's never outgrown his spoiled nature. I mean, he's just not used to people telling him no."

Ethan raised an eyebrow as he rolled over on his side. "And you've had to tell him no, I take it."

Theresa thought back to the evening before--she'd almost let Shay's kisses get the better of her. He'd wanted to sleep with her. Of that, there was no doubt. Yet she wouldn't--_couldn't_--knowing that Ethan was out there somewhere. And now Ethan was back!

"On occasion."

Ethan swallowed hard as he lay on his back once again and stared at the ceiling. Four years. Much had changed in four years. There was so much that he didn't even know about, but he was starting to get a pretty good idea. "But it's not just business with the two of you, is it?"

She shook her head. "No, it's not. He's also my friend."

"But he's always wanted more than that," Ethan pointed out. "Elizabeth must be furious."

"Oh, they're divorced," Theresa replied casually.

Ethan sighed. "Great."

"From everything I could tell, it wasn't the ideal marriage. I knew a long time ago that Elizabeth was cheating on him. I overheard two of her so-called friends talking about her at a party."

"Shay wasn't exactly known for his fidelity, either," Ethan said.

"I know," Theresa replied softly. "I think they were two people who never should have been married to each other. Very different from us."

"Do you ever have regrets, Theresa?"

"Regrets? About what, Ethan?"

"About marrying me," he replied as he continued to look at the ceiling.

Theresa placed a soft kiss on his lips before snuggling close to him. "Not for even a second, Ethan Crane. You are everything I've ever wanted."

"It's just that our five year anniversary will be coming up in less than a month--and I can't even remember four and half years of our marriage. I don't know where I was or what I was doing, Theresa."

"We'll figure it out, Ethan. I promise you. In a few minutes, we'll take a shower, go to the hospital, and see if the doctors can shed some light on this mystery."

"It's just that you've been hurt so much; by my family, by me."

"Ethan, do you remember waking up the day after our wedding?"

He nodded. "It was the most amazing morning. The sun was shining upon us, the ocean was calling to us, and there you were, next to me. My beautiful, beautiful bride."

"You asked me then if I had any regrets. Do you remember what I told you?"

"I do, because it surprised me a little," he admitted. "You told me that you would have sold your soul to be with me."

"And I still feel that way. Being around Shay--and not being around you--didn't diminish that, Ethan. You bring beauty into my life and hope, too. You are the man that I want to grow old with, the man I want to raise my children with, the man I want to sit with--just content in being together, and the man I hunger for. A lot of things have changed, but that hasn't and never will."

"I love you, Theresa."

"I love you, too, Ethan."

They lay in silence for a few moments before Ethan spoke again. "So many people must have worried about me."

Theresa smiled, "They're all going to be so happy to have you home. I feel a little guilty that we've not contacted any of them yet."

He rested his hand on her waist. "I suppose we've been otherwise engaged."

She ran her fingers through his hair. "Yes, I suppose we have been. You have amazing stamina."

He smiled back at her. "All the better. At least we've had plenty of practice with baby-making."

She kissed him, slightly sucking his bottom lip before pulling away. "I don't know, Ethan. It might not have been practice, after all. I stopped taking birth control pills a long time ago."

"You mean, you might be...?"

She giggled. "It's far too soon to tell, but wouldn't it be wonderful?"

"Oh, it would be! I tell you, Resa. I can't wait to spoil our firstborn. And can you imagine Mother and Pilar? They're going to be worse than we are!"

Theresa's cheerful countenance changed, something that was not lost on Ethan. "Theresa, what is it? Is something wrong with our mothers?"

"Ivy is fine, Ethan. She and Julian divorced shortly after that terrible news came out. She's living in Boston now with Sam."

Ethan shook his head. "I'll never understand how my mother and Sam Bennett..."

"Ethan, you're here because of them. Apparently, there were a lot of unresolved feelings between them. Once they started rehashing the past, they rediscovered what had been buried for so long." Theresa paused. "Ivy hasn't wanted much to do with me, and I guess I can understand. She thinks I'm partly to blame for her secret coming out. If Gwen had not had a vendetta against me, she never would have looked for ammunition and found it. But Sam--Sam is different. I speak with him from time to time. He wants so much to get to know you better. He wants to be a father to you."

"It's a little late for that," Ethan protested.

"But it's not his fault. Aren't you curious about him?"

"I know everything that I need to know."

"But Ethan, if we have children, I want them to know their grandfather. He's a good man. I know you've had your differences with him in the past, but he's going to be so thrilled to know that you're safe and sound."

"Safe perhaps, but not exactly sound," Ethan replied wryly. "God, Theresa! Why can't I remember?"

"It'll come back, Ethan. It will," Theresa soothed.

"From your mouth to God's ears." He took a deep breath. "And what about Pilar?" Ethan asked. "How has she been?"

Theresa could picture her mother. Pilar's calm spirit, her goodness, her warm but worn hands on her forehead. A tear fell. "Ethan, there's no easy way to say this. My mother died some time ago. It was a hit-and-run accident."

Tears filled his eyes. "No, Theresa. No."

"The coroner thinks that it was over before she even knew what hit her. She died instantly."

"The police never found the person who hit her?"

"No," Theresa whispered.

Ethan's eyes widened and tears fell freely. "You've been alone, with no support system, all this time?"

She wiped his tears away. "I'm okay, Ethan. Really I am. Genevieve and Shay have become my family. They've taken care me, looked after me, and loved me."

He sat up. "God, I hate this! I hate this! _I_ should have been here for you!"

Theresa sat up, also, though she rested her cheek against his back. "Ethan, we can't change any of the things that happened, but you're here now. That's what counts."

* * *

Theresa glanced at Ethan who sat in the passenger seat of the car, looking out the window. "I don't know how you talked me into this. I still think we should've gone to the hospital first."

"You've always had a hard time saying no to me," he replied with a smile.

"Don't get too smug, Mr. Crane," Theresa warned. "I've grown quite contrary these last few years. I'm used to getting my way, too."

"I just can't help but feel that retracing my steps might provide some answers," he said running his hand along its plush interior. "You know, I still can't get over this car. It rides like a dream. It makes me miss my old car. Though for the life of me, I don't know where it is."

"Well, you would've been proud of me, Ethan. I got a good deal," she said.

"I've always been proud of you," he replied, his gaze returning to the outside. It was another cold day, but deceptively so. The sunshine gave the illusion of warmth.

Theresa smiled, her focus returning to the road. As they traveled up the coast, she would need to keep her focus. After all, the roads, many of which were steeped along the sides of rocky cliffs, were notorious for being dangerous. Yet it was so hard to want to keep her attention on the road, particularly with Ethan so near.

"I used to love to come out here when I was little," Ethan said. "I remember how I used to beg Mother to bring me this way. A few times she even showed me some of the hidden coves and beaches. It's hard to see them from the road, but if you know what you're looking for...."

Theresa sighed. "A lover's hide-out."

"Exactly. Or a child's play area. I guess it just depends on your age and perspective."

"I'm sorry you weren't able to get in touch with Ivy, Ethan. I had no idea she and Sam were traveling."

"Once we get back, we'll track down someone with her cell phone number," he replied. "I still can't believe all the changes..."

Theresa reached over and touched his leg reassuringly. "I guess I've had a lot longer to digest all of the information that you're just getting thrown at you."

"So much has changed. Gwen's a mother now? That's a hard one to believe."

"If you could see her with her daughter, it wouldn't be so hard," Theresa replied.

Ethan grimaced. "I have no desire to see that woman."

"I didn't, either, but she's popped up a time or two. She's told me that she feels terrible for what she did, Ethan."

"You believe her?"

"I--I suppose I do. Sometimes I think I've forgiven her. Other times, I'm not so sure. It's just hard to forgive, hard to let go."

Ethan rubbed his forehead. "I grew up with her; I've known her for years. She could be difficult, but no more so than anyone else--or so I thought. I still can't fathom the things she did. As far as I'm concerned, her actions were inexcusable. If she comes to me for absolution the way she came to you, she's not going to find it."

"I think she's smart enough to give you your space."

"Let's hope so."

"Are you going to try to get in touch with Julian?" Theresa asked suddenly.

"Julian? Why would I want to? He and Alistair have done nothing but try to hurt us."

"He was upset when you were gone. I actually went to him and accused him of knowing where you were. I was convinced that he and Alistair had done something to you."

Ethan lifted a brow. "How did he take that?"

"I thought he would be angry, but he was just as worried as I was. The kind of worry he felt could not be manufactured. He's not as bad as Alistair. I firmly believe that."

"I don't know, baby. I think he might be worse."

"Why do you say that?"

"Julian is the kind of man who knows the difference between right and wrong. Yet he looks the other way."

Theresa couldn't argue with that. Julian Crane, a man who inspired fear in so many, truly was nothing but a coward.

"Theresa, up ahead there's going to be a curve, but also a shoulder on the road. Pull over on the shoulder."

Theresa was taken aback by Ethan's sudden instructions, as well as the fact that he could remember the road so vividly. Yet just as he had said, there was indeed a curve, as well as a shoulder. She pulled over and stopped the engine.

"How did you know?" she asked.

Ethan furrowed his brows. "I can't explain it. I just knew. Maybe I remembered this from when I was a child."

"Perhaps," Theresa replied, but her tone belied her uncertainty.

"Want to go for a walk? I can't explain this, either, but I'm pretty certain that there's a trail right over...." he pointed through the window, "there."

Theresa playfully slapped his arm. "You probably brought girls up this way when you were younger, didn't you?"

He lifted his hands, as though to indicate that he gave up, and laughed. "I promise that you're the first girl I've brought this way."

"Mmmmmhhmmmm."

"Promise," he replied before placing a kiss on her lips. "I just feel like something out here is going to give us the answers we need--more than any doctor could."

"Oooh, the truth is out there," she giggled.

"It just may be. Let's go find out."

They emerged from the car, both pulling their coats tightly around themselves and zipping them. Ethan took her hand in his, and the two began walking.

Just as Ethan had said, a path, or what appeared to be the remains of a path, was evident as they came closer to the side of the road. It led down an embankment.

Immediately, Theresa became nervous. She knew that Luis and Miguel had always been into hiking and rock-climbing, but it never had been her forte. Ethan sensed her hesitation.

"I promise I'll take good care of you," he said squeezing her hand.

She nodded, but could not shake the feeling of dread that was permeating her.

They continued walking down the steep decline. "This doesn't look like a natural trail," Ethan commented. "It's also gotten pretty overgrown with vegetation, hasn't it?"

Theresa merely nodded, keeping her eyes on ground and maintaining her footing.

Ethan squinted his eyes. "Did you see that, Theresa?"

"See what?"

"Something shiny."

"It's probably a soda can or something. You know how terrible people are about throwing their trash out the windows of their cars," Theresa commented.

"Probably so."

They came closer to the bottom of the embankment, and Theresa was starting to catch a glimpse of the black rocks below, valiantly taking the force of the ocean's waves.

"Too bad there's no beach down here. It would've been a good place to come back to in the spring."

Theresa was privately relieved. She had no intention of making the trek down the side of the embankment again.

"The Harmony Beach is open all year long," she reminded him with a smile.

"I still feel like there's something down there, Theresa. Let's walk for just a few more minutes. Then we'll head back to the car."

She nodded her assent, and they continued. Ethan had now taken the lead, walking in front of her. Yet when he suddenly stopped, Theresa nearly ran into him.

"Oh my God...."

"Ethan, what is ---"

And then she saw. Amidst the rocks in the cove was the scorched wreckage of a vehicle. The trail that they'd come down had more than likely been caused by the car veering of its course and off the embankment.

"Oh, how terrible!" she exclaimed. "I wonder how long it's been down here."

It became all too clear to him. Driving along the coast, the confusion of the events the night before, pressing on the brakes, the brakes failing.....yes, it was all too clear.

Ethan turned to face her, realization and remembrance dawning on his features. "Four and a half years."

"Four and a half years? Ethan, how would you know---"

"I remember."

Then it hit her. The way he'd been drawn to this place, the way he knew exactly where to go. "Ethan, no!" She touched his face. "Oh my poor baby. It must have been so frightening to go through that wreck!" Her eyes moved back to the site of the mangled metal. "I don't know how you managed to survive, but..."

Ethan cradled Theresa's face in his hands, tears filling his eyes. "Theresa, I didn't."

"Didn't what?"

He merely looked at her.

Then the full meaning of what he was trying to tell her started to sink in. "No!" she cried out. "You're here with me now! You're HERE!"

"But I'm not supposed to be," he whispered.

"Yes, you are!" she insisted. "You are! You belong with me!" He held onto him tightly. She would never let go. _Never!_

"You wished on the star, and I came."

"No!"

"Theresa, I didn't know. I didn't!"

"No, Ethan! Don't talk like that! You are very much alive!"

He shook his head. "They're calling me back."

"Ignore them, and listen to me. I love you, Ethan, and I'm not going to let you go!" She cried out when she felt her hold on him slipping. "You came back, and now we're going to live the life we always dreamed of!"

He looked at her sadly. "I didn't understand it, didn't know, but I do understand now. I came back so that you could go on living. I didn't leave you because I didn't love you; I left you because of circumstances beyond my control. You've shut yourself off from the possibility of love and blamed yourself. You're still so young, and you have so much ahead of you. I'm here so that you could move forward--not back."

"Ethan, no!"

He traced her lips with the tips of his fingers. "They're calling for me."

Theresa squared her shoulders, her brown eyes flashing with determination. "This is _not_ the end. I won't let it be!"

He leaned forward, kissing her tears away. "This isn't the end, my love. This is just a new beginning."

_And then he was gone._

She called his name.

_No answer. _

She looked around frantically.

_Nothing._

She fell to her knees.

There was no one to pick her up.


	19. Chapter 18

**Author's Note: **You know the drill. I don't own Passions. A warning for you-- this chapter does contain some brief sexual content.

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen: Mrs. Shay Markham**

**March 3, 2006 **

**March 4, 2006**

How pathetic am I? I can't even keep the days straight anymore. It's to be expected, I suppose.

It's so strange to hold this journal again. I look back at its pages filled with so many hopes and dreams despite the fact that Ethan was not here. He was the one who inspired those hopes and those dreams, and he's not coming back. Not again.

Sometimes at night, I close my eyes, and I can almost feel his breath on my body. I can almost feel his sweet caresses. I can almost hear him telling a corny joke or whisper in my ear that I'm incorrigible. Yes, he always liked my spunk. Too bad that my spunk is spent.

All of these wonderful thoughts of Ethan fill my mind and my heart. I can almost--_just almost_--believe that he's next to me.

Then I open my eyes and see Shay in the bed we share.

Ethan's not coming back.

I was on a hamster wheel for four and a half years, going nowhere. I dared not go anywhere. I waited for him. Obsessively, might I add.

Nothing changed.

Yet in the past nearly three months, everything has changed.

Ethan's remains were recovered from the wreckage, and he was finally laid to rest.

The funeral was tasteful. That's an odd thing for a widow to say, I suppose, but I felt numb. Part of me has died, and I don't know how to get it back.

Sam and Ivy were there, of course. Also Ethan's half-siblings. Julian made an appearance, but I later saw him exchange harsh words with his ex-wife. Ivy has aged tremendously. Perhaps it's just because she appeared so distraught. It's understandable. After all, she always favored Ethan over her other children. He was her one link to her past with Sam; the one child she had created out of loves, hopes, and dreams.

Gwen stayed away, as did her mother. It was fortunate that she had the decency to do so because if I'd seen her, I would have torn her apart.

And then there were Shay and Genevieve; Shay, who'd rather give his right arm than see me hurt anymore, and Genevieve who had welcomed me into her life as a mother would welcome a child. The others paid their respects to me, as was expected of them. But then they went along their way, on with their lives. Shay and Genevieve were the ones who watched out for me day and night. They were the ones who dried my tears and who picked me up off the floor when I wouldn't go on.

Then, more changes.

My surrogate mother was dying. Cancer, the doctors told her, and it was progressing quickly.

All of this news came around New Years. Yes, indeed. Happy New Year's to all of us. Shay and I had been noticing for months how tired she was. Getting her to the doctor, though, proved to be another matter entirely. I think a part of her knew all along; she just didn't want to face it.

Shay was devastated by Genevieve's prognosis. His father had died a few years ago, and Genevieve was his only living relative.

Yet his mother was much more stoic. She had everything figured out, and we humored her.

I still remember one day in particular that we visited her bedside. Mid-January--I think it was. She took my hand and placed it in Shay's. She told us that before long we would only have each other. She wanted to make sure that we would be able to manage and to draw strength from one another. Of course, she had just the solution: we were to be married as soon as possible.

I balked at the idea and tried to play it off as a joke.

Genevieve wasn't laughing.

Shay and I later talked about it. I thought the issue had been dropped, but obviously, I was mistaken.

We needed to do this for her, he told me, to give her piece of mind. He made promises and lots of them. We wouldn't complicate matters by sleeping together. Once she had passed away, we would quietly get an annulment and continue with our business arrangement.

For a crazy idea, it sounded reasonable.

And so I swallowed hard, and after _much_ convincing, agreed to become Mrs. Shay Markham.

In the midst of it all, a media circus was brewing, though they were mercifully leaving me alone. Why? Because they'd found a bigger target.

Julian Crane was arrested for killing his father. It didn't make sense to me. Julian, who couldn't go to the bathroom without his father's permission, had killed him?

I went to the holding facility and was able to meet with him after he made the request of me. We sat across from one another, separated by plexi-glass, talking on closed-circuit telephones. His brown eyes met mine, and he told me everything. More than I ever dreamed I wanted to know, actually.

My father discovered the source of the Crane Empire's wealth lay in illegal activities.

Too many to write down.

Too dangerous to write down.

Papa paid with his life.

My brother discovered the source of the Crane Empire's wealth lay in illegal activities and that our father had died to cover the Cranes' dirty secrets.

Luis paid with his life.

When Alistair found out that Ethan wasn't a Crane, he took measures to silence him. His blood had once saved him. No longer.

The brakes in Ethan's car were tampered with. When Ethan went for that drive--because he was so upset that I hadn't told him the truth--that was the end.

Ethan paid with his life.

"He killed my boy," Julian explained to me. "And he lied about it. Oh, he gave every assurance that he was not responsible. According to him, Ethan had simply left because he couldn't handle the public scrutiny or the dishonesty. But when Ethan's body was found...all this time later...he no longer denied it. He bragged, Theresa! _Bragged_!" Julian shook his head. "If the evidence had been there to arrest Father, he would simply have bought the judge and jury. He never would have seen any jail time. This was the only way."

I didn't know what to say to Julian. I felt like thanking him. I felt like screaming at him for letting his father continue unhindered for so many years and for living off the suffering of others.

Instead, I looked at him blankly. "Why am I still here?"

"Because I loved Ethan."

Then I understood. But by the grace of God and Julian Crane did I live.

"What about my mother? The driver of the car was never found.....?"

"Hired by my father," Julian supplied.

My visit with Julian sent me into a tailspin, a tailspin that was further exacerbated by what I found when I returned to what had become my temporary home while my arranged marriage to Shay dragged on for his mother's sake. I returned to the Markham Estate, my mind racing and my heart breaking over what I'd learned, only to discover that Genevieve had taken a turn for the worse.

By the next morning, she was gone.

Preparations were made for her wake and funeral. Shay amazed me with his steely strength. I hadn't seen him cry once all day. I, on the other hand, was falling apart.

He hugged me so tightly. When I look back on it, I think he was trying to give me some of his strength. Perhaps to transfer it. If only that were possible.

Then everything changed again.

It was a few days later, late at night. I was walking down the hall to the bedroom I'd been sleeping in when I heard muffled noises coming from Shay's room. I hesitated about investigating, but I couldn't let it go.

Slowly, I opened the door, only to find that he was sitting on his bed, in the dark, crying. He'd been holding it in for so long, trying to handle the business ramifications of his mother's passing, and trying to be strong for me, that it all came tumbling out.

It was the first time that I'd seen him cry, and it worried me.

So I sat on the bed with him. I cradled his head on my lap, ran my fingers through his hair, rubbed his back, and sang a lullaby to him that Mama used to sing to me when I felt sad. After a few minutes, the crying slowed to an occasional sniffle.

Sometime later, he sat up again and touched my face. I knew what he intended to do, so it was no surprise when I felt his lips on mine. What was a surprise--to the both of us, I think--was that I didn't pull away.

I kissed him back.

When he pulled at the hem of my nightgown, I raised my arms so that he could easily lift it over my head. Straddling his lap, I could feel his hardness as he bathed my body in kisses, and I let him. I let him touch me, and I purposely fueled that desire.

Lying on my back, I beckoned him to come to me. He slid my panties down my legs, and shed his boxers, as well. His body was on top of mine. I spread my legs and let him come inside.

He moved against me and inside of me. I met his movements.

He was skilled.

He gave me pleasure and then he found his own, thrusting deep inside of me and spilling his release.

After it was over, we lay there together, our breathing labored.

He felt like a conqueror.

I felt dirty.

I reached for my nightgown, but he grabbed my wrist. "You're upset, aren't you?"

_Well, duh._

I told him, "We've managed to do what we said we wouldn't do. We complicated things."

He stroked my hair. "Theresa, you know this has been a long time in coming."

"I'd never been with anyone except Ethan," I told him quietly.

"I know," he replied. "And I think that's sweet, but Theresa, it's been four and a half years. You couldn't go on living like a nun forever."

I closed my eyes. It had only been about a month. A month since I'd had Ethan's arms around me, a month since I'd kissed him, a month since we'd made love.

It felt like it had been an eternity.

I turned away from Shay and started crying. He must've been hurt, but Shay's always been one to take charge of any situation. And so he rolled me over to face him, kissed me, and wedged his knee between my thighs, prying my legs apart.

"It's time to start living again, Theresa."

He was inside me again.

He rolled on his back, bringing me on top of him. He could see my hesitation, and he reached out and touched my breasts. "You might as well finish what we started."

I raised on my knees to where I was almost free of him, but I lowered myself and took him inside again.

I took him deep.

And I felt dirty.

After it was over, I tried to leave, but he wouldn't let me.

"You feel guilty," he said as he rubbed my back.

_Yes._

"No," I lied.

"Yes, you do. I can see it on your face. You wish we hadn't done this."

"I miss my husband," I told him.

_A few careless words. _

"_I_ am your husband!"

"In name only."

_Yet that wasn't the case anymore, was it? When we consummated the marriage, that made it real. _

He was all too quick to point that out to me. "That's not the case anymore, Theresa. We made love."

I shook my head. Making love to Ethan never felt dirty or wrong. What Shay and I did was not lovemaking.

"We had sex, Shay. There's a difference."

"Fine, Theresa," he replied angrily, "we had sex. You might be feeling guilt-ridden now, but you wanted it. I barely had to look at you before you were on your back, spreading your legs for me, wanting to be ridden in a completely different way."

I was furious and hurt. I jumped out of the bed and grabbed the comforter from it, wrapping it around my body. I knew that Shay was speaking out of anger and frustration, but he wasn't the only one who was angry or frustrated about what was going on.

To his credit, he knew he'd upset me, and he tried to apologize.

I was hearing none of it. I was trapped. Absolutely trapped.

"You have no intention of following through with the annulment, do you?"

"How can I, in all good conscience, annul this marriage after what we've done, Theresa?"

I knew his reputation. For that reason, his explanation was laughable.

"You never had any intention of ending this easily, did you?"

"We're partners in every sense of the word now, Theresa. Business partners. Bedroom partners. Marriage partners. Give it some time. Give _us_ some time."

"How can I do that?"

"By letting go of the past," he replied.

"I don't know how, Shay. Ethan was my world, and now he's gone. How do I let go of that?"

"By building a new world. Sweetie, you don't have to stop loving Ethan. No one is asking you to do that. Just open your heart a little to the possibility that life doesn't end because he's no longer here."

Hasn't it ended, though? Am I really living, or am I merely existing?

As wrong as it may be, I've remained in Shay's bed or he in mine each night since that first night together. He makes me forget, even if only for a brief time, all those things that hurt to remember.

And so I've remained on the Markham Estate as Mrs. Shay Markham.

What a fraud I am! I still feel like Mrs. Ethan Crane, and I feel as though I'm committing adultery.

I've found myself in the ballroom on more than one occasion, reliving that terrible night when Ethan found out the people he loved most were also the ones who had lied to him the most. I can stand in the middle of that room and almost feel the past swirling around me like a dull rainbow of colors. And then I'm there, but I'm not part of it. I watch, but I don't participate. The vacuous smiles, the smugness, the love, the hate, the fear, the anticipation, the awe--all these things I can see on the faces of the phantoms around me. I can hear the chatter, the laughter, the spite, the accusations, the hurting, the pleading.

Spinning. The room is always spinning. Always haunting. Always taunting.

I hate it.

I hate myself.

I hate those who left me.

I hate those who've stood by me.

I'm only existing.

But I'm going to have to start living again because I'm late. Two weeks late, actually. Shay's gone to the store to get a test.

I feel numb.

I'm only existing.


	20. Chapter 19

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Passions.

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen: Ties to the Past**

_They carry news that must get through_

_To build a dream of me and you._

_Taking a path where no one goes._

"And so, to this very day, the hummingbird hums because...."

"He can't remember the words to the song!" the little boy gleefully finished. He settled back on his fluffy pillow. "I like this story, Mama."

"I know, _mi hijo_," the mother replied as she gently kissed the child on the forehead and closed the storybook. "I think I'm going to have to get _you_ to start telling it to _me_. You know it so well."

"But I like the way you read it," the boy insisted, his blue eyes twinkling.

Her heart melted as she pulled the covers up and tucked them under his arms. "You are terribly spoiled," she teased with a smile. "Whatever am I going to do with you?"

"I'm just a B-R-A-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T," he announced proudly.

She chuckled softly, hearing her son spell words he didn't even know yet.

It made the boy smile all the wider. He was pleased to have made his mama smile. Sometimes when she didn't know he was looking, he saw her with a frown on her face. He didn't know what made her so sad, but he always wanted to make sure that mama wasn't frowning.

"And who told you that you were a B-R-A-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T-T?"

"Rosa did," he replied. "And she said that you spoil me too much."

The mother shook her head at Avery's report about her assistant. That was Rosa--honest to a fault.

"Well, all little boys, whether they're spoiled or not must go to bed or Santa won't be able to come."

"Do you think Santa will bring my daddy home for Christmas?"

The mother touched her son's cheek. "I know Daddy wishes he could be here with you, _mi hijo_, but he's still on his trip."

"When will he be home?"

Her heart clenched. How could he miss Christmas? And for what? A ski trip with his latest bimbo?

"Daddy loves you so much. He promised me that he would be home in a few days. He also asked me to tell you that he'd be bringing lots of presents."

The little boy nodded. "Goodnight, Mama."

"Goodnight, Avery. _Te amo_."

**December 24, 2010**

Oh, I have had it! I could just tear Shay limb for limb for what he's doing to Avery.

But you know what? I have to look squarely in the mirror and take the blame for this, as well. None of this would be happening if I would've been a little stronger.

Shay is in Vermont, and Avery and I are in Boston. Quite honestly, I wouldn't mind him traipsing all over New England with his flavor of the week if it weren't for my son.

But Avery and I will be just fine. Christmas is a special time, meant to be shared with those we love, and at the moment, I can't stand the sight of my husband.

Christmas signifies another time for me, though. It was about five years ago that Ethan came back to me for that one, beautiful night. How wonderful it was. How special.

I still can't believe he's gone. For so long, all of my hopes and dreams revolved around him. I still remember being not much more than a little girl and weaving intricate tales of what our life together would be like. Of course, he hadn't met me yet, but that didn't stop me.

It wasn't supposed to end like this. It just wasn't.

For a long time, I felt that Fate was cruel for granting me that one last night with him. I never thought I would feel happiness again.

And then came Avery, my miracle.

Sometimes when he looks at me with his blue eyes, I'm amazed by his resemblance to his father.

What an amazing blessing my son has been.

I just pray that I don't destroy him the way I destroyed Ethan and the way I destroyed myself. When I think back on the decisions I've made, I'm ashamed.

Expediency and fear ruled over what was right.

But I would do anything for my son.

_Anything._

I would sell my soul to make him happy.

And sometimes I wonder if that's what I've done.

**March 4, 2006**

Shay rolled over on his side, propping his head on one hand as he lay in bed. His other hand rested on Theresa's tummy. "When do you think the baby was conceived, Theresa?"

She looked away from him. It was impossible to tell. After all, they'd slept together almost every night since the first night they had sex.

"I don't know," she finally replied wearily.

She still felt numb.

_If only it were Ethan's baby. _

When Ethan came to her that night, he was very much a flesh and blood man. The connection between them was intense, as was the pleasure. Her heart pounded slightly when she remembered the way he called her name and kissed her when he would find his release. She'd been filled by him, and still she'd not been able to get enough.

But it was impossible that the baby was his. She'd had her period two weeks later.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked nuzzling her neck.

"A little bit of everything," she said.

"Aren't you happy about it, T?" he asked as he began to run his hand downward.

"It just doesn't seem real yet," she replied as she pushed his hand away. "And we really don't know for sure, do we? I mean, those home pregnancy tests are never 100% accurate."

"Let's look at it this way, shall we? You've not taken the Pill in who knows how long. I've not been wearing condoms. You've been milking me all the time. It was only natural that this should happen."

Theresa turned on her side and looked at him. "There's nothing natural about you and me."

"Oh, it's very natural with us, T. Primal even. And I always knew that it would be."

"What do you mean you always knew?"

"I used to watch you and want you. Even back before you and Ethan were married, I wanted to taste you. And you were worth the wait. Forbidden fruit never tasted so sweet."

Theresa no longer felt numb.

She felt sick.

**April 28, 2006**

"It's the most beautiful sight I've ever seen!" Theresa said with a smile to the obstetrics nurse as she looked at the sonogram monitor.

"There's nothing quite like seeing your baby for the first time, is there, Mrs. Markham?" the nurse replied with a knowing smile.

"I...I can't believe it," Theresa said. "I'm really going to be a mommy!"

"Shay will be sorry he missed this," Dr. Gentry said to Theresa.

Theresa swallowed hard. She tried not to show it, but she wasn't particularly sorry that Shay wasn't with her. No, it wouldn't do to exhibit that kind of relief in front of Dr. Gentry. After all, Philip Gentry was an old friend of Shay's and hand-picked by her husband to be her obstetrician.

"Someone had to hold down the fort," Theresa replied casually. "It's been a very busy year for the company."

"Of course," Dr. Gentry nodded. "Well, Theresa, based on the development of the fetus, I estimate that you're about eighteen weeks along. It seems we're looking at a September due date. Probably the fourth week."

Theresa felt the room spinning around her. "But that would mean the baby was conceived in December."

"That's right. Late December."

"No, that isn't right," Theresa insisted. "I had my period in January."

"It's not uncommon to have a small menstrual period even after fertilization has occurred. Congratulations, Theresa. It seems that you're going to be a mother sooner than you thought."

Tears began streaming down Theresa's cheeks, the realization of the doctor's words sinking in.

The impossible had happened, not once, but twice.

Ethan had given her a gift, the most precious of gifts. He'd left her with a part of himself, a new life.

"Mrs. Markham, are you alright?" the nurse asked as she handed her a tissue.

"I'm wonderful, Nurse Napton. Everything's _wonderful_!" Theresa exclaimed through laughter and tears.

**April 29, 2006**

"Everything's terrible," Theresa whispered as she lay on the bed in Ethan's and her old home, staring at the ceiling. "I don't know what to do. I just don't know...."

"You could start by telling your husband the truth," said a voice coming from the doorway.

Theresa quickly sat up. What was he doing there? Hadn't she locked the door?

It was as though Shay read her mind. "I had a copy of your key made. I let myself in."

"You had no right."

"I'm your husband."

"Yes, my husband. Not my keeper."

"You've been hiding."

"I've been thinking," Theresa countered.

"About how you're going to lie your way out of this one?" Shay asked. "Don't bother. I know."

"You know?" Theresa asked.

"Yes. Philip told me the baby was due in September, that it had been conceived in December. I knew then that it wasn't mine."

Theresa stood. "I'm surprised. You speak of this so matter-of-factly."

"I'm just trying to keep calm. It was before we were married, but what I don't understand is this: you told me that Ethan was the only man you'd ever been with before me. I believed you at the time, but obviously, Ethan is not the father. So who is?"

"Let's not do this," Theresa said quietly. How could she explain what happened?

_Oh yeah, Shay. I just wished on a star for the first time in four and a half years. Lo and behold Ethan showed up for one glorious night. But, wouldn't you know it, the next day I found out that he's actually been dead all this time. _

No, that wouldn't go over very well.

No one could ever know.

No one.

"I wanted this to be my baby."

"I know," she replied.

"Is it still going on? Is that why you don't want to tell me about him?" Shay asked.

She shook her head as she walked to him, touching his face. "When have I had time? You keep me so busy."

"Obviously not busy enough. I remember wanting to stay with you around that time. And do you remember what you told me? You couldn't because you loved Ethan. How hypocritical is that? You tell _me_ no, but you spread your legs for someone else?"

Theresa stepped away from him, all the emotions she'd been holding in finally coming out. "I'm _already_ the biggest hypocrite that ever was. I don't love you, Shay. At this point, I don't even like you very much! And here I am, married to someone for expediency's sake. I let you touch me, I have sex with you, and I feel dirty. You kiss me, you hold me, and I feel sick."

His steely gaze met hers. "Do you want a divorce?"

She took a deep breath. "Yes."

"Too bad," he said with a smile. "You can't have one." He touched her abdomen. She tried to move away from him, but he backed her against the wall. "When this baby is born, you'll still be my wife. My name will go on the birth certificate, along with your own. If you try to leave, I'll fight you, T. And you know I can."

"This isn't even your child," she hissed.

He brushed a stray strand of hair off her forehead. "It doesn't matter. I will paint such a picture of you that no court in the land would allow you custody of this child. So you will stay."

Tears slid down her cheeks. "I hate you."

"You might hate me, but you'll never be able to tell me no. We'll always be tied to one another."

"What happened to you, Shay?"

"I'm the same man I've always been," he replied.

"I just never really knew you. I thought I did, but I didn't."

His hands moved to her skirt, and he began to pull it upward. "Then we'll just have to get reacquainted, Mrs. Markham."

Theresa was going to be sick.

**December 25, 2010**

I must be a monster. Shay is dead, and I can't seem to feel anything but relief. Or that perhaps I should go and pin a ribbon on the tree he slammed into while skiing.

When the police came to the door today to tell me, they must have thought me to be a complete ogre. Perhaps they expected that I would fall to pieces. Amazingly, I am put together quite well these days. Marriage to Shay Markham has hardened me.

_I'm free._

But Avery--my poor little one. Shay's never been a committed father, but it's still going to break his heart.

I couldn't bear to tell him today. Christmas would've been ruined for him.

I'll tell him tomorrow.

Thank God he's so young. His memories of Shay will be limited.

I, on the other hand, will never forget.

The time is going to come, though, when Avery will start asking questions about his father. Do I tell him about Shay, or do I tell him about Ethan? Will he think I'm crazy?

**May 12, 2028**

The pages have yellowed, but I've found this journal once again. It's perhaps a little archaic to keep a written log, but old habits die hard, I suppose. It's nice to get lost in the past every once in a while.

As I look back at the words that have filled this journal, I'm amazed by how time has flown. So much has changed since I was that little girl who married Ethan. I was younger than Avery is now.

But yes, time flies.

Avery graduated from college today. It's official. My baby is all grown up.

And my baby is in love with Gwen Hotchkiss Thornton's daughter, Sarah.

I know I disappointed Avery with my reaction to Sarah. I was just shocked, completely shocked, when I walked into the restaurant tonight to find Avery and Sarah with her parents.

I hadn't seen Gwen in years. I hadn't _wanted_ to see Gwen.

Gwen seemed well, and she looked lovely, but I kept looking for flaws. Her skin is sagging a bit, and that made me feel better.

But it didn't make me feel good enough to forget that my son announced that he plans to marry Gwen's daughter. The little girl with the golden curls had grown up into a beautiful young woman.

Gwen spoke with me later in the ladies room and asked that I not hold our past against Sarah. It was very reasonable, of course, but I could give no guarantees.

Is it unfair of me to be like this?

Sure it is.

But I will never forget what Gwen did.

I can't believe that Avery wants to marry Gwen Hotchkiss's daughter. Of all the young women in the world, why her?

I hate the idea.

I absolutely _hate _the idea.

I can already hear what Hank's going to say. He's going to remind me that Sarah Thornton is not her mother. I can't condemn a person because of where they come from. Then he'll gently point out that people have been doing that to me all my life, and I've always hated it.

Of course, he'll be right.

Then he's going to say that we should beat them to the punch and get married before they do.

Even with all the uncertainties in this world, there is one thing that _is_ certain. I will never get married again. I will never tie myself to another person like that again.

He wants to make an "honest woman" out of me, but I like things the way they are.

I never thought I would love again. I didn't think myself capable of loving another man after I lost Ethan and after my fiasco of a marriage to Shay, but Hank swept into my life like a hurricane. Seeing him again that first time was a fluke. We literally ran into each other on the street, each a tie to happier times in the other's pasts. We weren't willing to let that go, and things progressed.

The physical side of our relationship is amazing. I can always tell when he comes into the room. It's as though I can feel his presence. It's been like that since the first time we made love all those years ago. After being married to Shay and remembering those times he forced himself on me, the thought of sleeping with anyone was enough to make me feel sick. But Hank has always been so tender with me. Making love to him is beautiful.

He also makes me laugh. It's probably because he knows how to laugh at himself.

I love the little things, too, like standing on my tip-toes to kiss him. He's also very ticklish around his ribs. I love to tickle him.

More than anything, I love him because he's been wonderful to Avery. He's been a father figure to my son, and I know Hank genuinely loves Avery.

I also know that he wishes that he and I would have given Avery some brothers and sisters, but that wasn't meant to be.

We've been together for fifteen years, something I never would have imagined in a _million_ years. I suppose Fate hasn't given up on me, after all.

And one other little tidbit comes to mind. You love who you love. Who would have thought that my brother's best friend and, yes, Ethan's uncle, would be my lover?

Yes, you love who you love.

Avery loves Sarah, and I'm going to have to deal with it.

The ties to the past pull at us, but it's what happens in the future that truly matters.

**July 17, 2031**

Dear God, how am I going to tell them?

**July 18, 2031**

I dreamed of Ethan last night, and he told me not to be afraid. He would be waiting for me.

But how can I leave Avery? There's still so much to tell him and so much to show him. He doesn't know the truth, and he deserves the truth.

He deserves to know where he comes from.

But how do I do that? He doesn't even know that I was ever Theresa Crane. He knows very little about Theresa Lopez-Fitzgerald. He's only ever truly known Theresa Markham, and Theresa Markham is a fraud.

**October 4, 2031**

Houses lined the narrow street, and the neighborhood was filled with the sound of children playing in the late afternoon sunshine. Mother and son slowly walked down the worn sidewalk, hand-in-hand.

The years melted away, and Theresa could almost imagine that she was a child again as she looked down at the cracked surface on which they walked. She remembered the games of tag that she and her best friend played along that very sidewalk. She remembered the skinned knees and the diligent attempts to avoid stepping on the cracks. She remembered walking home at night, staring up at the sky, and wishing. How she had wished!

But that was a long time ago. Much had changed.

Avery glanced around him, his crystal blue eyes taking in all the sights. His mother had always avoided this place, this town. Yet now she had brought him to it. Why?

They continued their silent walk. A few minutes later, his mother stopped in front of a small, run-down brick house. Crossing the over-grown lawn infested with weeds, she made her way up the narrow walkway. Avery followed.

Looking up into the eyes of her son, Theresa touched his face. "This is where I come from, Avery. This was my home."

Confusion filled the son's gaze as he surveyed his surroundings more closely. Shutters hung loosely on the windows, in a desperate state of disrepair. Paint was peeling off both the door and the shutters. "This?"

She smiled weakly. "_Mi hijo_, there are many things about me that you do not know."

Avery was again reminded that his mother was secretive about much of her life. She made fleeting references to her past, but they were mostly of her childhood and never were told in great detail.

_It was as if she had lived another existence before he was born. _

"Then tell me, Mother. Let me know. Make me understand!"

He wanted to know why she had avoided this place for so long. He wanted to know what had put the sadness into her brown eyes. He wanted to know why she had such a look of longing when she thought no one was watching her. And he wanted to know who she was as a person, not just as his mother.

"Soon," she replied. "Very soon." Her hand slipped away from his face, and she walked around the side of the house.

Avery followed.

He watched the light dance in her eyes as she saw the old basketball goal. She turned to him and smiled. "My brothers used to pound each other mercilessly on this court, all for the sake of earning bragging rights for the day. They had so much pride." She looked down at the ground for a moment. "I suppose we all did."

Avery looked at the goal. The backboard was rotting. A few strings, remnants of the basket, hung from the rusted metal rim. He had a difficult time imagining anyone using it to play basketball, but looking into the eyes of his mother, he knew that she could see it as it had been, not as it was at that moment.

His mother started walking toward the backdoor of the house, but stopped at the window. It was caked with dirt. She drew a handkerchief from her purse and wiped the dirt away.

Peering through the window, she could almost picture the candles that had burned nightly on the windowsill as a beacon for her father and brother to come home. She could almost see their glow and feel the gentle heat they radiated.

Taking a deep breath, she made her way to the backdoor, placing her hand on the knob. Slowly, she began to turn it.

"Mother! You can't go in there!" Avery exclaimed. "That's breaking and entering."

She looked back at him and smiled sadly. "I think I'm the only one home," she replied quietly before walking inside.

With the exception of the layer of dust, which covered everything, the kitchen looked the same to her. Memories pelted her like rocks. So many hours had been spent in that room! Late night talks with her mother over hot cocoa and marshmallows. Teasing her brothers while the family ate meals together. Ice-cream consolation dinners with her best friend. Soap-sud battles with _him_.

Avery walked to the old refrigerator, removing a small, magnetized picture frame with a photo inside. He wiped the dust away.

Studying the picture, he recognized his mother. She stood with two young men and another woman. His mother looked so young, much as he remembered her from his childhood.

He showed it to her.

"My family," she said, taking the photo from her son. "This was long ago."

"Will you tell me about them?" Avery asked.

"Soon."

"That's what you've _been_ saying. But when will 'soon' become too late?" He looked up at the ceiling. "Why have your brought me here to this remnant of your past only to turn away before telling me about it?"

Tears filled her eyes, and she tried to push them away. "Because it is harder than I thought it would be. It is hard to face the demons."

Avery sighed. "Will you at least tell me about _him_?"

The older woman looked at her son. "What do you mean?"

"This man. This man you loved before my father." Noticing his mother's look of shock, Avery continued, "You thought I didn't notice, but I did. How could I not?"

She closed her eyes, _his_ image filling her mind. She had memorized every trace of him, every nuance. "I have kept so many things buried deeply within, _mi hijo_. It has been for your sake, as well as my own. I--" her voice faltered as he looked at her child. "I love you beyond reason. Because of that, I have tried to protect you." She took a deep breath. "I cannot protect you much longer."

He took his mother's hands. "Trust me, Mother! Trust me with whatever it is that burdens you. Please tell me!"

"I brought you here, Avery, because I want you to see me for who I really am. When I am gone…"

"Don't talk like that, Mother."

She shook her head. "You know it's an inevitability, _mi amado_. You know what the doctors said. Please, just listen to me. When I am gone, you will know everything. I have made certain of that."

"I would rather hear it from you, Mama." His voice had a pleading quality.

She smiled, hearing her son call her mama. It had been so long since he'd used the term of endearment, and her heart swelled with love. "You will. This I promise you."

_____

I took Avery to Harmony today. I tried to find the words to tell him all the things I should have told him long ago, but I could not form them.

He was frustrated with me, and rightfully so.

But he will know everything. This little book in which I now write will insure that.

But God help me, leaving behind those I love is a heady thought.

Hank still talks of marriage. He just wants to hold onto me even more as he sees the days slipping by. I love him so, and it tears me apart to see what this is doing to him.

My Avery has his sweet Sarah. She's been a good wife to him, and I know she'll continue to be.

I just don't know how any parent can prepare to leave her child.

I wrote a letter to him tonight and placed it in the front of this journal. I asked him to believe.

_Believe. _

It's a simple word that represents an action that's not so simple to do.

_Believe in me._

_I believe in you._

_I don't believe you._

_Believe it or not....._

_Do you believe in.....?_

We throw it around all the time, don't we? But I do want him to believe. I want him to believe that he was created from the most extraordinary, pure love. I want him to believe that he is special, that he has been my life. I want him to believe in himself and what he is capable of doing.

I have had an amazing life, despite the setbacks. And it's been amazing because of those I've loved.

How can I leave them behind?

* * *

Avery Markham took a deep breath and closed the cover of his mother's journal.

"Mama, I do believe."

* * *

**The End**


End file.
